Pied Oystercatcher

• Judith Browne, Grade 2
• Poetry
• 2009

Pied oystercatchers flop down
deep beside the whipping grass on top of the sharp and dusty hill, with the swamp below, and the sounds of the kookaburras you could still hear and the sweet hush of the grass day and night and all around was the pink clouds in the sky, and the tang the open air and the whispering wind in a small lonely rock pool.