Louise Morey Bowman’s “Shadows” moves from simple outdoor observations to a hushed indoor memory. It begins with shadows cast by familiar trees—oak, elm, apple, willow, and pine—on grass, water, and snow, and even notices a baby’s small shadow falling over a hyacinth. These images feel calm, attentive, and gently playful.
In the second half, the speaker recalls two dried goldenrod stems in a firelit room. Their faint shadows on the wall seem like delicate, otherworldly “ghosts of Beauty.” The mood shifts from everyday charm to something more mysterious and reverent. When the fire dies, the shadows disappear into silence, leaving a sense of quiet wonder and the fleeting, elusive nature of beauty.