You stand on Central platform at the end of yet another 110 call day. Looking over to the skyline to where the mountains lie.
The creatures flap in the twilight that's shot through with deep, dark blue and silver as dusk hits the tracks.
As you wait for the train.
They fly so high. They endlessly wheel and dive.
You believe they are roosting birds.
Huh!
They are giant Fox Bats, alive in Sydney's evening darkening sky.
They show the way it was, little knowing that it would soon be over and their Garden Island home would be no more.
The creatures flap in the twilight that's shot through with deep, dark blue and silver as dusk hits the tracks.
As you wait for the train.
They fly so high. They endlessly wheel and dive.
You believe they are roosting birds.
Huh!
They are giant Fox Bats, alive in Sydney's evening darkening sky.
They show the way it was, little knowing that it would soon be over and their Garden Island home would be no more.
No comments:
Post a Comment