Down in the Billabong

Down in the billabong the trees rustle in the breeze,

the bushes swinging in the wind.

The creek splashes,

the rapids crackling with the rocks side by side.

I steer my eyes at the trees as I watch the leaves fall from the sky.

I look around and listen to the birds singing.

A branch falls, cracking,

it makes the sound of a drum,

bang.

The birds are squawking and the snakes are slithering,

I sit down and listen to the lizards that are hissing.

Down in the billabong.