Ringed Plover By Water’s Edge
They sprint eight feet and –
stop. Like that. They
sprintayard (like that) and
stop.
They have no acceleration
and no brakes.
Top speed’s their only one.
They’re alive – put life
through a burning-glass, they’re
its focus – but they share
the world of delicate clockwork.
In spasmodic
Indian file
they parallel the parallel ripples.
When they stop
they, suddenly, are
gravel.
The best Youtube video I could find of the ringed plover: