Manning Ridge – By Nandi Chinna

Calyptorhynchus latirostris, Carnaby

At 6pm

the black birds flew over,

so low I could see into

the dark shafts of their eyes.

They were all coming in.

The sky was filled

with what I had always known.

Then everything began to recede.

I was the last person left,

the black bird bursting

inside my chest,

squalling and flapping against my ribs.

In this moment, my learning was lost.

All the taxonomies,

the families, the lists of species

falling one by one

from the hill of my globe.

More than anything else

I wanted the birds

as they disappeared over the ridge,

their cries becoming a part

of the recording of history.

How difficult a thing

to turn away from this edge,

to walk slowly home.

By Nandi Chinna