Power Outage
The hummingbirds buzz
on the feeder behind me.
A black fox saunters past,
looking up, unimpressed.
A few finches flit nearby
but are too timid
to land on the railing,
which is laden with fresh seed
every morning as my coffee brews.
A seal snorts and glides by my feet.
And moments later, a bald eagle soars
right over my head
All that is missing are the whales,
who are doing their whale-thing
further up the island coast this day.
The notes flow.
I’m not only in my zone,
I’m in everyone’s zone–
much to their dissatisfaction,
but to my delight.
This is a truly amazing way to work,
to breathe,
to be inspired,
and to think.
To hear the flutter
of tiny wings moving the air,
and to feel the puff of breeze
from the flap of much larger ones:
this is where the music comes from.
To hear sea mammals before even seeing them,
the sound of their breath traveling
easily over the water:
this is where the music comes from.
And to nearly weep
from the beauty of it all
and my great fortune to live this life:
this is where I’m hoping that eventually,
if I am lucky, the music will come from.
I love it when the power goes out.
Everything else,
comes in.
Alex Shapiro
Posted over on her site Notes From the Kelp
Linebreaks for her incredible prose
by Glenn Buttkus
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