Christmas Island Flying Fox

The island breathes alone
The deep blue changing from calm to ravenous
Jagged cliffs surround Christmas Island
Yet tourists are still welcome
Bright red crabs parade and cover her
The human mind can’t count the crabs in their large quantity
Yet fragile and few are the flying fox
Often upside down
Hanging from a branch
Wolf-like faces covered in black fur
Flying flying spreading seeds from food
If they stop flying
Food will grow scarce
Feral cats attack
Murderers
Taking what was never theirs
Time to leave mother earth to heal
Time to let her breathe
Again
For the future of our flying foxes