A bird stood in sand
is a confused creature.
Unsure of the waves ahead,
too tired to explore the grass beyond.
A sort of limbo.
Resting
while grains of sand 
slowly mount on its webbed feet.
A subtle weight that goes 
unnoticed,
yet soon becomes 
irritating.
Over time the bird would grow to hate the substance.

Its head doesn't twitch.
Unbothered by the wind
it could gently handle,
deciding to greet it's impact instead.
Peace was no longer part of its life,
a distant memory of it's nest days.
Even flight was lost.
Not a freedom,
but a disdain for vast heights
and even bigger drops.

The bird stood in the sand,
unmoving.