Oh Kookaburra

OH KOOKABURRA

Oh fluffy cuddly-looking bird against the sunny ceiling,
content in trees you brave the breeze in heights that'd have me wheeling.
As if a branch you camouflage a feathered grain of timber
until you lift and spread aloft your thin weight light and limber.
Your colors blend in whipping winds with stick and bough and leafage
until departure frees your clasp from off your swinging brief edge.
The black of under drooping umber rich in verdant green,
taunts brush and earthy pigment to paint your parlor scene.
And you oh fluffy cuddly-looking bird in tawns and 'keens,
what a painter couldn't do to make you any artist's dream!
I wonder now why you were made of cotton, down, and fur;
to tease the bone of human flesh, entice the heart with lure;
to put a fondness and a pine to hold and fondle you
with all your thick and plush disguise, caress your brown and blue?
Stand firm, fly far; look hard upon the dirt
and be that soft yet rigid thing who knows no disconcert.
If only you would stay so still just long enough for me
to hold your trembling grasping claws and embrace your shaky knee.