I Don't Need Poetry

I Don't Need Poetry

I don't need poetry

unless it scratches secretly on my window.

I open the door

to discover it was only wind.

I don't need poetry

until it doesn't want my observation anymore.

when I lower my eyes

it stretches great wings across the sky.

I don't need poetry,

and I say that with the best intentions.

I retract it

when it lies cold in my hands.

I don't need poetry

unless it slopes up along the edges

so the heaviest words

get trapped when it begins to spin.

I need poetry...

like I need a small, white dove winging

hither an olive garnish

for this silver platter beneath my chin.