A Bushman's Clock

At the crack of dawn the bushman’s clock appears. 
At the deaf man’s tent, the one with bad ears. 
The stranger guides the camper far and near. 

The friends fall asleep whilst counting sheep.
They don’t notice ... 

Suddenly, the kookaburra awoke, 
just in time to see the smoke.  

Trauma lingers in the air, 
it would be unfair, 
to not warn the camper. 

So the brave bird awakes his companion, 
to prepare to escape, to cross the canyon. 

The bird flies ahead, 
when it realises, he must of mislead, 
his new friend. 

Back a little more, 
looks like a war. 

No more smoke, 
no sign of the bloke, 
or anyone else. 

The bird shuffles back to its tree, 
but can no longer see, 
any of his friends. 

The clock was no longer needed, 
even though he had pleaded, 
to be allowed just one more chance.