(29 February 1920 – 5 July 1991 / New York City, New York)

Because You Asked About The Line Between Prose And Poetry

Sparrows were feeding in a freezing drizzle
That while you watched turned into pieces of snow
Riding a gradient invisible
From silver aslant to random, white, and slow.

There came a moment that you couldn't tell.
And then they clearly flew instead of fell.

User Rating: 3,5 / 5 ( 77 votes ) 3

Comments (3)

beautiful piece....i love it
Clever connection here to me... Describing the invisible threads which waver. Loved it..., two great pieces in one day ty poem hunter. Karen
Simple yet very beautiful!