ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

At Thursday night's meeting, I learnt about another endangered species in the path of the loggers - a small native fish. I felt it deserved its own poem.


The Barred Galaxias

© Stephen Whiteside 12.08.2011

Barred galaxias its name,
Eating insects is its game;
Little grubs and worms as well,
And little fish that have a shell.
It is a most specific liver.
Streams that reach the Goulburn River
On the Great Divide’s north face
Would seem to be the only place
In all the world this fish can swim.
Its future could be fairly grim.
They’re chopping lots of forest down,
Which turns the crystal waters brown
And tends to rather put it out.
Then, of course, there are the trout
That eat it up. Alack, alas,
For pretty barred galaxias!
 
If I had my way I’d let
The forests stand. I’d not forget
The role of trout. I would ensure
That barred galaxias no more
Was eaten by this foreign fish.
Yes, that would be my fondest wish.
I’d let the anglers fish them out,
And clear the streams of all the trout,
And though folk would, no doubt, complain,
I’d not put any back again.
If campers wanted food to fry
I’d tell them to give eggs a try.
If fishy crave should pass their lips.
I’d send them off for fish and chips.

Re the fish and chips in the heart of the forest that soon won't be a forest.

God forbid Stephen anyone allow life in any form to stand in the way of progress - the little fish and the possums will be headed down the path of extinction, the kangaroos and koalas will be homeless, and the birds that nested in the trees will no longer be there either.
The cool shade and the regeneration of oxygen that the trees gave will be gone...the lungs of mother earth cut down and destroyed....and for what pray tell. Greed, $$$$.............very sad, and across the world the orang utangs are fighting the same plight with their rain forests felled to make way for palm oil plantations. But in their case of course they are being blatantly trapped and killed in the most barbaric fashion imaginable. The little Galaxias will just disappear with barely a sigh

You don't paint a very rosy picture, Maureen!