The egret is settled
and the toddling brent goose
eyes the laden-down trestles
and oilskins and boots.
At one with the elements
he works with the tides,
through weather inclement
he's always strandside.
Wild winds and great lulls,
stinks of wet sand and seaweed,
he watches herons and gulls,
and pulls crabs from his sleeves.
The common sandpiper
sees the turning occurring,
and the oystercatcher
tests for any poor work done.
For all the weekends
and the middles of night
he's on the world's edge
for the dawning of light.
