Dawn hardly moves her head before
she sees an oyster-catcher pecking
in grass she’s glad to find
in this lava-scarred land.
Another two fly over the nearby lake
that squats below a barren grey-brown
mass. No fish today?
Still as life, the water waits. The air
barely breathes; fresh, clean.
The only movement the bobbing
of the bird. Born to catch oysters,
she settles for seeds
or a worm
