The Cliffs of Machu Pichu

I have never been to the Inca citadel of Machu Pichu, and very likely never will, but, by the power of  imagination, I have realised this inconsequential poem about the wild life of the area, rather than focusing on the ‘heaps of rubble’ some of those dear to me would see.

And my apologies to those who might have been wanting to learn about this very important Inca site.

The Cliffs of Machu Pichu

The cliffs of Machu Pichu
are home to many fowl:
the eagle and the robin,
the condor and the owl.

The eagle nests the highest
on vaunting spires of stone.
It builds its nest from yoghurt,
balloons and bits of bone.

The robin’s nest is lowest,
it’s very scared of heights.
It won’t go out at night time
for fear of sudden frights.

The condor lives on ledges
precarious and thin,
it only gets to nesting
when breeding times begin.

The owl squats in the hollows
that form in rotten trees
and that is where it picked up
a feathery disease.

The eagle sees the robin
and dives to have a snack,
but then the condor stops it
by giving it a smack.

The eagle gets all huffy
and sulks upon its nest,
which gives the frightened robin
a chance to have a rest.

The owl ignores the robin
and thinks that it’s absurd
for all that gorgeous plumage
to cover one small bird.

The robin loves the condor
and finds it little treats,
like buns left by the tourists,
all packed with tangy meats.

The owl resents the condor;
the way that it can glide
for hours and hours on thermals
its wings spread out so wide.

The condor isn’t bothered
by all the owl’s disdain,
it spins above the ruins
come sunshine or come rain.

The owl puffs up the eagle
with flattery and lies
so gets to eat the tidbits
that tumble from the skies.

The cliffs of Machu Pichu
are home to many fowl:
the eagle and the robin,
the condor and the owl.

© Huw Evans 2019

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