Fog moves like breath across the water

Fog moves likes breath across the water

like birds are panting from their
morning calisthenics,
like fish are having
all kinds of fun, 

like the air is standing
too close to the mirror,
Narcissus breathing
through his beautiful mouth,

like ever since God
breathed into our nostrils 
he’s been biding his time and 
cleaning his glasses, so one day
he can finally
scrutinize us all—

the bored children
in the back of the car,
readying windows
for tic-tac-toe.

The Prompt

This week, my kids and I have been visiting my dad and bonus mom in their beautiful, riverfront home. In all the excitement and sloth of being on vacation, I haven’t written any poems (well, until just this second), but almost every morning as I look at the Arkansas River, I see mist rolling across its surface, and I think of breath fogging a mirror. Today, realizing I’m due for a post here, I decided to play with that metaphor, and in the process, I found a few more.

If you’d like a prompt for your next poem, then I invite you to play in similar fashion. Pick a phenomenon around you—it could be the disappearance of the sun behind the clouds, the pink of a sunset, the darting of minnows in a pond, the hoards of humans with metal rectangles pressed to their ears, the proliferation of yard signs, or the humming sound coming from your refrigerator. Whatever phenomenon you choose, try to see it through the eyes of a very young child or an adult from a couple thousand years ago or a Martian landing on earth for the first time. Forget everything you know about science or our present society, and let yourself play. What explanations might you find for this phenomenon? Get silly with it. Or go dark with it. Let it take you somewhere unexpected. And then if you’d like, post your poem to the comments so we can all go along for the ride.

I look forward to seeing where this takes you! Have fun, friends.