The scrape, like hare, of pebble bird:
As fawn and cream as flint in church.
The jaundiced, yellow eye will blink
As mirage dews pour through the fen.
The field was first, the bird was first,
The sky reflected breck was first:
The yellow eye had snapped them shut.
The clouds of dawn turned iris bright.
The lines of earth, of dyke, of hedge,
Formed islands, merged and took the sea.
It watched it all, the yellow eye:
It watched it from its field of stone.
Beneath the dust which birthed its calls,
A wary bird ducks low to earth.