evening soundscape

The cicadas are resting now
(though surely they cannot sleep
through the row of the crickets –
those noisy downstairs neighbours).
A young magpie complains,
hoarsely whining for a lullaby,
granted (dolce) by its parent.
Then across the gully a kookaburra begins –
first a chuckle, then a chortle,
before its full-bodied cackling
fills the evening air.
Another whoops – three times –
then joins in for the chorus.
Pizzicato punctuation
is provided by a magpie-lark.
Poor thing, poor thing,
calls the currawong
(with pity for poor magpie-lark’s
borrowed name and dreadful voice).
One by one they cease,
until, finally,
above the leaf-litter base-note of the crickets,
there is only the kazoo-calls of the rejoicing frogs.
Then boobook hoots twice
announcing evenings-end.