By BRIAN LOWRY
The thought of golden streets
and rivers of crystals and jewels
is no more fine
than our home’s plain rocked lane
after a midsummer rain.
A mourning dove pair, tone of earth,
a goldfinch and bluebird, bright as sun and sky,
a song sparrow, rich in russet and gray,
come all at once
to the short-lived puddle.
They bathe and preen,
drink and rest.
in the wake
color their silence
Brian Lowry, teacher, farmer, and naturalist, writes from Meadow Glen Farm near Leota, Indiana. Lowry, his wife and their daughter devote much time to their sustainable farm where they grow vegetables, fruits, herbs, perennial flowers, native plants and care for a variety of livestock.
Editor’s Note: This poem was a finalist in the 2009 New Southerner Literary Contest.