The black cockatoos aren't around anymore.
The trees here are different.
Before I left I wanted one to see me off.
A goodbye before the next chapter.
Instead they keep turning up here.
On a sign by the road.
In the corner of an advert.
They couldn't make the move the way I did.
So they come as whatever this place has.
Paint and print instead of feathers.
I'd know them anywhere.
Not in the trees.
Still showing up to say hi.
