Thoughts While Feeding Livestock in Winter



From the time I was a towheaded boy I’ve loved
the wild places where native birds flit
from limb to limb still as snowflakes on wind.

I’m humbled that the Master has entrusted me
a little piece of ground and by it
pens an inscription deep within.

My longing grows to dress this earth and keep it so
that when I die, it bears no more burdened mark
than a flight-swept wing print in powdered snow.


Brian Lowry, middle school counselor, naturalist, and farmer, writes from Meadow Glen Farm near Leota, Indiana. His wife, daughter, and he devote much time to their sustainable farm where they grow vegetables, fruits, herbs, perennial flowers, and native plants, and care for a variety of livestock.



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