This is from this morning's "Writer's Almanac" by  
Garrison Keillor (every day at 6:30AM on WETA-FM, 90.9) 
 
 
 
Poem: "Goldfinches" by Mary Oliver from Owls and Other Fantasies: Poems and Essays. © Beacon Press.  
 
Goldfinches  
 
Some goldfinches were having a melodious argument 
at the edge of a puddle. The birds wanted to bathe, or 
perhaps just to dip their heads and look at themselves, 
and they were having trouble with who should be 
first, and so on. So they discussed it while I stood in  
the distance, listening. Perhaps in Tibet, in the old 
holy places, they also have such fragile bells. Or are 
these birds really just that, bells come to us—come to 
this road in America—let us bow our heads and 
remember now how we used to do it, say a prayer. 
Meanwhile the birds bathe and splash and have a  
good time. Then they fly off, their dark wings open— 
ing from their bright, yellow bodies; their tiny feet, 
all washed, clasping the air.