Entering: stepping off a plane, through a door, into a swimming pool. What happens when you pause at that moment of entering to notice it? This moment can be compared with the slight pause at the end of a gentle exhalation; the pause is part of the entire round of breath. So is the mini-moment of transition between then-now, here-there, past-present. Jessie Lendennie's poem "Anchorage" captures that moment.
And when you get off the plane
And the air is so icy
You can barely breathe
But so invigorating you're instantly high
Out of body with the purity of it all
And the streets
Wide like highways
Waiting for something to fill them
And you want to be part of this
Whatever it is that moves the light
That brings the snow
Daily Prompt: Choose a moment from your day. Even a seemingly mundane moment like stepping onto the stoop to retrieve the newspaper or entering a cafe for lunch is a moment full of possible noticing. Borrow Jessie's line, "And when you ...." and start your poem of the moment. Enjoy.
Note: Poem first published in Walking Here; used by permission of the poet