elizabeth honness
The small sandpipers go to school
Upon the sandy shore;
The ocean is their teacher,
She has a fearful roar.
She shows them how to catch the crabs
That burrow on the beach,
How to run behind a wave,
Then soar above its reach.
They do their featherstitching
In rows along the sand.
Until the sea erases it
With foam upon her hand.
The grown-up terns and elder gulls
Who scorn their childish fun,
Drop clamshells down to break it up
And see sandpipers run!
