Penny M Geddis
You don’t fool me with that white apron, my friend; I see the true colour in you – bright feathers, sense of humour, divinely aerodynamic grace; we are fat you and me, society deems us so, but we dance as though weightless, both laughing as you crash into the cabbage trees on purpose, domestic pussy cats beneath scared witless from their lazy slumber, their paths are arcs of unflattering movement while you dart back into the bush, red-beaked and ready to set up the same scenario over and over again.
