Vulnerable

As I scurry through the dirt piles I strike at the trees knocking down berries.

Sunbeams shining on the rocky trail as my short stubby feet ache,

from carrying baby joeys!

Wind shining, waves crashing and branches falling.

How will I get my vegetation?

As I scuttle through the rough ground the greenness of the floor begins to rise.

The Quokka hurried up the tree to reach for the berry above the bee. 

Feral animals all around, foxes, cats and dogs searching the ground. 

The Short-tailed Wallaby begins to hide. 

Humans and animals causing no place to call home.

The wind blows as the Quokka hides underground. 

That’s no surprise for me and the crowd. 

Hiding away completes the day sleeping Quokkas aren't awake.

In the morning the quokkas come to play while.

My eyes are killing while the Quokka is digging away. 

I lie on the grass while watching the Quokkas play as the seventeen joeys come to climb.

Climbing is their specialty especially to collect the berries up high.

Quokkas are here all year-round so come enjoy the scenery before they hide from feral animals who try to score one of the lovely furry animals that are always so sore. 

Dogs, cats, foxes and more need to be stopped. The harmless Short-tailed Wallaby has done nothing to harm us.