Oystercatchers
The road beyond the house stretches
Out around a field grown wild with oilseed,
Tarmacadam sweating rainfall into gutterways
Before turning east in search of seashore.
The road lies low, and silent this early,
Mist and light rain holding indoors all but
The swallows, herons, swifts, cormorants,
And any one else who never wanted for roofs.
A corridor of hedgerows opens into the rocks
And sand (smaller rocks) dusting the spray
As the oystercatchers loiter in the shallows,
Waiting for the water to offer its secrets.
Thanks for reading,
Dave.
