[Martin Elster]

The Plains-Wanderer

This wanderer of the Riverina plains
with her pretty black-white collar knew a day
when she could whoo and cluck and munch away
on spiders, seeds, and bugs. Now poison stains
her home (to quash the locust), causing pains
as grave as falcon claws. The pleasant May
of life recedes. Foxes and cats will play
their predatory games, while plowing rains
its menace on the land and quickly leaves
it overgrazed or far too lush. Will suns
of trouble tumefy and fill the sheaves
of journals? Yet if time could hold his breath,
allowing you to watch her as she runs,
you’d see a tiny bird outrunning death.


In the last line "outrunning" might be "outracing."