Famine in Maryborough

Out in the dregs of Maryb’rough West

On rickety fence, ‘round playground dead

Sit birds in row, a murder of crows

Starved eyes stare me down, follow me round

We’re all skin and bone, no food, no hope

Far from our homes, in these parts unknown

Can’t feed myself, let alone starved crows

Out in them dregs of Maryb’rough West

‘Round playground, dead, sit starved birds, in row

Glad they’re on the fence, that murder of crows

A poem I started writing in February or March 2017 after having to stop at Maryborough West station for longer than necessary on the way from Bundaberg to Brisbane on the Tilt Train. There were about five crows sitting in a row on a dilapidated fence by a playground. I was listening to Birds in Row. I figured I could make something with those two things.