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.


Howard Nemerov, The Collected Poems of Howard Nemerov, University of Chicago Press, 1977.