Yesterday Today
My dog presses his nose to the grass, lifts his paws high again, runs the trail of yesterday’s rabbits. Last year’s baskets of Queen Anne’s lace line my path. The forest opens to a field of fleabane—new flowers every day in never-ending succession. I cannot hold it all: the feeling that I’ve been here before, a living door swinging open to reveal something new, every moment converging, a rabbit thumping at the intersection.
Photo by Gary Bendig on Unsplash
The Prompt
Today’s poem had to be written—or some version of it did, anyway. A week or so ago, a friend was talking about his dogs and described them as running about the yard in pursuit of “yesterday’s rabbits.” The delicious pairing of those two words has bounced about my brain ever since, waiting for a poem to hop into.
If you’d like a prompt to play with today, then I encourage you to listen closely to the people around you. Notice any unusual or unexpected turns of phrase. Pay attention to the expressions that people use again and again, to the words that make you laugh or cringe, and to the words that leave you with questions. If you listen closely, I am sure there is a flower waiting to be plucked. But just to be sure we have all our bases covered, let’s say there’s not . . . let’s say your friends and family members are all horribly dull people who say only horribly dull things. If that’s the case, two options still remain to you: first, you could let their dullness be the inspiration for a poem, or second, you might turn to podcasts or books or other sources of words for inspiration. I encourage you not to skip over the step of listening closely to the people around you, though. After all, who knows what brilliance might be lurking on the lips of your mail carrier? What idiosyncrasies might tumble from the tongue of your child or coworker or next door neighbor?
I’m so excited to read whatever you share!
This is so lovely, Larry! It makes me happy to think of you there at the edge of Flathead Lake (a place I love - my sis used to live near there). And I adore these lines - “stories abound in the cracks of life’s highway.” Beautiful. Thanks for sharing snippets of those stories with us!
This is one I started a while ago based on a conversation with my 5-year-old. I'm still not sure if it's finished, but this is what it is for now.
You say, "I think he loves you
a lot - like, three pounds!"
and I ask how much
you love me; "ten!" you shout.
.
Is that how you measure love?
By the weight of it?