Poetry Is

Poetry is white lights falling upon rainbows and snow Casual exchanges blinked upon a shared pillow Lip prints etched inside an antiquated photograph The obligatory holding of hands as a lost-craft Poetry is the scent of morning kisses Words that blossom, an arrow that misses Umbrellas unopened on a drizzling day A trail of lovers unable to find their way Poetry is an evening sparrow chasing the moon Two silhouettes cascading into a spoon Roses blown from a closed casket The loneliness of waiting for her to ask-it Poetry is the answer to what if and why Tissues capturing the tears but not the cry Rubies polishing a heart to an imperfect shine The undefined likeness of I, Me and Mine