This morning a Brown Treecreeper
tapped on the window.
‘Wake up!’ he said.
But I was already awake because
he’d been tapping on the mirror
of the van in which I’d been sleeping
since it was light enough to see.
Perhaps you don’t know the Brown Treecreeper.
He hops around on the ground,
quite game, pecking at goodness knows what,
tiny things, insects, ants.
And he shimmies up tree trunks with his weird legs
as if there was no such thing as gravity.
Anyhow, when he tapped on the window beside my face,
he said, ’Wake up! It’s time to wake up.’
And added, as if it was unimportant,
‘Wake up to this beautiful world.
Save it. Save us. Save yourself.’