The tiny bird runs toward the surf,
Poking its thin beak into the wetsand,
Searching for tidbits brought by the sea,
But scuttles away whenanother wave comes.
Minuscule legs a blur, it doesn't fly,
Only runs farenough to escape the wave,
Then turns and runs back to feed again.

Takecare, Piper, for the smallest wave could make you fall,
Grab and drag you outto sea to drown.
So forever the sandpiper runs, chasing or fleeing
Thepatterns of the waves,
Keeping barely out of danger's foamy wet grasp.
Thistiny creature teases the vast sea
Like squealing children in thesurf.

Avoiding the waves would bring starvation,
So the sandpiperrushes into jeopardy,
Constantly facing death to hold onto life.