What
makes
A poet

Well
I think
Eventually

One will
just
know it

©  2019 Jim Davis

Fingers trace

the crescent moon coffee stain
on the otherwise white napkin.

Nothing left
between us now
but donut crumbs.

You are like a rain,
Sometimes pleasant, gentle soft.
Sometimes unseasonably heavy.

You are like a night,
Sometimes moonlit, misty.
Sometimes extremely dark and cold.

You are like dream,
Sometimes blissful and romantic.
Sometimes bizarre, incomprehensible.

You are like a talk,
Sometimes heart-to-heart.
Sometimes ribald, scurrilous.

You are like a wind,
Sometimes gentle.
Sometimes strong gusty.