Bird thou never wert
—Shelley

I tell him, My name is Ghost. And at that very moment a kookaburra laughs. I find myself thinking that no-one owns the laugh of a kookaburra, not even the kookaburra. It’s not copyright. And kookaburras have only been over here, here in the West, for a hundred or so years. People from t’other side often don’t realise that, thinking their way is the normal way. Maybe lyrebirds can mimic a kookaburra’s call where they come from. Wouldn’t know—have to look it up. I can see from the blood in his cheeks, his scrunched eyes, the mild tremor taking hold of his limbs, that he thinks I am laughing at him. I’m not. I am simply saying, My name is Ghost.