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| Courtesy Nick Dunlop* |
By Paul Clark (aka motomynd)
They descend, tens then hundreds then thousands,
Their mass of tiny wingbeats flattening the bamboo canopy into sparse strands,
Like a helicopter gunship, searching a jungle for prey.
Aggressive and raucous, choosing bullying over tact,
They force the others to the edges of what was their home tract:
“This is our thicket now.”
