Crab-legs of rock guard this little bay.
It is a half-smile where seabirds ride the inshore swell.
It is home to stork and squawking gull, and
on the rocky shore
oyster catchers’ red daggers prise out creatures that squirm in the sand.
The basalt here is caked, split by sun and wave.
When it is wet it is black and shines – as though just spewed from its volcanic home.
Beyond, steam rises from steel towers and wagons rattle on rail.
And poppies bow before the wind.