Poetry is there

 

Poetry is felt

The look you get before she unbuttons your shirt

And

The sting when she shoots that look at another

 

Poetry is understood

The anticipation felt when the phone rings

And

The undeniable admission of guilt declared by stammering

 

Poetry is life

The smell of your father’s cologne on his old shirt

And

Empty solace as you match the shirt with a tie for the undertaker

 

Poetry is ordinary

The smile of a stranger as you approach

And

A sudden psychotic glare as you get closer

 

Poetry is inspiring

The first oration of a new charismatic leader

And

The last speech of a tyrant

 

Poetry is available

The breath of life that we receive each day

And

The last exhale

 

Reviews

[Mason Vail]

You've done a good job of calling out the magic in the mundane - if you just look. I think you're right: poetry is there.

[Ben]

Very good!
I really liked it!