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Doe Hill, Late August, After a Storm
Robert Brickhouse

Rainbow over Bullpasture Mountain,
gauze prism of mist in the east at sunset.
The North Country lambs wander far out
from the old barn again to graze in fine drizzle.

According to Augustine, in the Eternal nothing passes away.
A little unicorn buck and three fawns
browse for windscattered apples under the trees.
He also said Time moves on fast.

Gnarled stems and sliced gills of witch’s hats
lie abandoned by field guides and notebooks.
I find you on the porch watching a hawk.
Blue Sky Boys on the radio from Durbin or Frost.

—
Robert Brickhouse has contributed poems and stories to many magazines and journals, among them the Virginia Quarterly Review, the Southern Poetry Review, the American Journal of Poetry, Poet Lore, Louisiana Literature, the Texas Review, Hollins Critic, Chattahoochee Review, Atlanta Review, Pleiades, and Light Quarterly. He worked for many years as a reporter for Virginia newspapers and as a writer and editor for publications at the University of Virginia.

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