Parrot (September)

September descends to the decking. Alisterus scapularis doesn’t give a whistle for Latin, a carrak-carrak for name-calling. Humans are where they can raid fruit, whisk off with seed as they please. Humans sit over steaming teacups arguing colour. Daughter says King Parrots are red, Father orange, the bird book scarlet. Mother eye-rolls. They gather in small flocks, like the tea-drinkers. They hang about in flowering gumtrees, so their bodies are green leaves and their heads are gum flowers, red, orange, and scarlet. Their crescents and stripes of green help them disappear. Humans plan outings, tea turns lukewarm, parrots turn tail.