Jo Dingle

 

 

 

Noticing how

The snow has changed us, softened our faces, a glint in our eyes.  We perceive other differently; perhaps because of the way we drove more slowly, appreciating the need to take more care on the corners, or use the gears instead of the brakes. I stand at the reception desk enjoying this quality of ‘something more’, a brighter admiration for our mutual presence, a playful yet unspoken acknowledgement of the journeys effort mixed with thrill. It infuses our exchange, making us more novel to the other, somehow bolder. We animate each other while you search for my appointment. The day is extra ordinary and the nurse sees me early, drawing red blood as more snow starts to fall outside the window. She is guiding a trainee, talking about what is needed and I rest in the calm perfect efficiency of the moment. It too has the feeling of falling snow. I thank you as I leave, imagining you at the end of your day taking care on the corners on your journey home.

 

 

 

 

Jo Dingle lives and works in Norfolk. Her poems have appeared in The Interpreters House, Obsessed with pipework and Ink Sweat and Tears.

 

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