In one corner of the adjoining island
waves smashed over huge stony
outcrops, out of mood with the land
which was everywhere sleepy;
fairy penguins peered from their rocky
burrows as they had for silent ages;
life in the town proceeded without hurry,
the country bakery giving charm an anchorage.
On the beach, drowned sea-birds in the sea-weed
sharpened the loneliness of the sea,
ever equivocal and free.

Reg Naulty.