The Lyrebird

on the way to a meeting at Batemans
I glimpse a lyrebird
on the edge of the Mt Agony road
gone as soon as I notice it

I slow down
and look at the place where it entered
but there is nothing,
the bird
become dry branch, scrub-

writing this down
I wonder what part of the self it is
hides amongst language

– looking at
these words, this
trying to find where I entered.

Walking to Point Clear, Brandl & Schlesinger, 2005
© David Brooks