‘Alae ‘ula
Back again. But no one sees it come.
One turns to eight. Rippling the waters making way for the fish.
Water’s refrain is a daily practice of wet weaves.
Striking red beak in the mud
for algae and insects
mbleep — whoosh —mbleep — whoosh
Tracing a path from the apu ‘awa sedges
to nearby kalo fields, where it chooses to nest.
