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)
Advertisements
That’s a very good poem, Carolyn.
That’s lovely stuff..brightened my day and will remain in my mind.Thank you
A lovely poem! Thank you. Sometimes get tired of rhyming couplets (which is about all I’m capable of, so I shouldn’t criticise). But this one really made me see the rain differently.
a delightful, sensory poem of joy. Thank you.