The Shadow of My Smile

The Shadow of My Smile

The extending shadows
across this soft field
by my house
tell the tale
of summer.

We have been
teased
by three beautiful
months,
tempting us away
from the things
we think
we should be doing—
usually inside,
at a piano,
or a desk.

Long fingers
summon us, yes
pull us
away
and gleefully reorganize
our priorities;
blind to pressing
deadlines
and delivery dates.

Thank goodness
for this sultry reminder
each year
to just…
be.

The deer need
no reminding,
it seems.
Every evening
around this time,
almost twenty
or our hooved,
sweet-faced neighbors
spread out
across this expanse
for the
all-you-can-eat
buffet
of fresh grass
and flowers.

Yesterday
I laughed
at the sight
of a gaggle of geese squatting
squarely in the middle
of the herd.
A bald eagle
glided low
overhead,
and staring at
this bestial trio
I instantly knew
that there were
more important things
for me
to experience
at that moment
than whatever awaited me
at my studio.

Tomorrow
with its insistent deadlines
will arrive,
no matter what;
but these flashes
of life
have to be
absorbed
when they’re fresh
on the hoof,
on webbed feet,
and on the wing.

In turn,
the muses reward
with ideas
that spring
from a calm
and open
mind.

Alex Shapiro August 2007