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Sanderlings Here
A low fog bank to run inside today,
Wave-noises muffl
ed, near cliff s blurred and pale.
Fog-puff s come down, each spreading a black tail,
A black bill aimed at the sand. And a slight gray
Movement ahead suddenly swerves this way
And a whole fl ock gleams cleanly purposeful
Against the drifting vapor. Now they all
Vanish up there, sheering themselves away.
And near the fi nish, a fl at stretch, bits of shells
And pebbles lift a little and begin
To travel along the water ahead of me --
Sanderlings, running in the fog or else
Low-gliding, I here running heavily
As faintly they shape unshape and shape again.