A Young Magpie on the Breaking Drought

What is this silver falling from the sky,

that beads slim branches, streaks the garden wall;

that drums my dusty feathers as I fly;

that, never seen before, holds me in thrall?

I see slick foliage shine as if with dew

when touched by this world-washing, magic thing

that brings the snails and worms exploring, too;

that bids me tip my head right back and sing!

© Carolyn Eldridge-Alfonzetti

(First published by The School Magazine – Touchdown, No 2 – March 2008

Acknowledgement requested if published elsewhere)