The Emu That Wouldn't Drink

At the dam to see the wildlife,
we were quiet, very still -
and had settled in the shade to wait and watch,
when an exophthalmic Emu
undulated from the scrub…

and it headed for the water in the dam.

From its punky-looking hairdo
to its dusty big-clawed feet,
that poor Emu was a bird in some distress.
Was it really feeling thirsty,
seemed the question in its mind,

and we watched that worried Emu do a dance:

Take a step toward the water,
take another step and stop,
reconsider, and retreat a stately pace.
While its brain fought indecision,
other bush folk came along

to the water on that summer afternoon.

First the Swampies came to wallow,
then the quiet Eastern 'roo,
and Pied Currawongs soon gathered at the edge,
so did friarbirds and pigeons,
while the Emu stood in thought,

and the wallabies crept softly down the bank.

From a pouch of well-sprung comfort
little joey lapped its fill
and its mother lapped in tandem silhouette.
Then some cockatoos with youngsters
flew to settle in the gums

that were growing in a circle round the dam.

Still the Emu stood to ponder,
looking over at the dam,
where the water lay in shadow from the trees.
Then it seemed to make its mind up,
and swayed back towards the scrub,

after shuffling round the dam for half a day.

Sometime later, would that Emu,
as it wandered deep in thought,
drawing on its recollection of the dam,
stop to wonder why the water
hadn't quenched its raging thirst?

It's a bugger when you can't make up your mind.