In a State of Near Disrepair

As Golden Perch flows into the murky,

plastic infested rivers, they risk it all.

Their stomachs knot in fear of getting trapped.

Laying down, I watch the sky.

The distressed shriek of a Southern Brown Bandicoot

slipping into the treacherous, murky depths below resonate.

As I close my eyes, the bushland around me quiets down

until there is no sound left to be heard.

The stars in the sky glisten like glitter.

The Southern Grampians: In a State of Near Disrepair.

As an Australasian Bittern glides through the polluted, smoggy morning air,

their hearts pound a million times faster; oblivious, as they are,

to the dangers in front of them. Resting amongst the trees’ of the forest,

I hear the almighty roar of a chainsaw ready to cut down aeons of history

in less than a breath of time.

The Southern Grampians: In a State of Near Disrepair.

A Southern Brown Bandicoot crawls through the dusty remains of its habitat,

its home, distressed as it searches for its family,

traumatised by the fire that destroyed it.

I stand up, realising as I look at what is left

of this once beautiful landscape;

home to many and now to so few.