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)