Yellow-Tailed Black Cockatoos in flight

 It seems that every time one flies above, 

My eyes can’t help but to look to the sky.

Dark figures with glimpses of gold. 

Quietly they descend down,

Back to earth

Back from where they came, 

Wherever that may be. 

Do they bring a good omen? 

Or one that sends a gust of wind in your face and obscures the sun? 

They usually come in pairs. 

King and Queen 

Pharaohs of the sky 

Watching you on their land