it appears as though
there was a coup,
in kookaburra land,
this morning.
much fuss,
and cacophony.
as the brown and blue kingfisher clan, reassembled,
their royal court.
the big old king,
uncurled his talons,
unfurled his wings,
gave one last,
manical chuckle....
and fell from his perch.
to lie still,
upon the dusty,
brown earth.
shocked, silence for some seconds, and then...
the eucalypts erupted into, (what would appear to the outsider);
cold calculating mirth.
as the young jacko princes, all began the joking joust
for the top place berth.
in a melee of swooping, chuckling grace,
a contest no less,
set to test....
mettle, worth and cackle call.
each young bird,
takes to the wing and flies into the maddening...and how close,
how loud,
how startling,
they can be.
is made known,
by those,
whose years,
have flown.
when all, is said and done. tourney overflown,
feathers are preened.
then the winner
is presented,
with opportunity, bold....
to nest the queen.
as to the rest,
they take their place,
in the chaotic, cackling, cacophonous,
kookabuurra clan nests.
to bide their time,
until, the next coup,
comes calling...
this is fiction, i have no idea, really, how jackos sort out their hierarchy. they where just exceptionally excited at dawn this morning... and this flowed through.