I can't define poetry.
I don't want to define it.
Let it remain obscure,
like the forest sounds
you hear at night.
Let it terrify you.
Let it crawl in the dark
as you walk by it.
Does it watch me from
behind the tree?
Perched on limb,
does it sneer?
Poetry defies the cage.
Let it.
Let it get the best of you,
running in circles
around the page.
Poetry is a creature,
wild, pure,
perfect by design,
desired and revered.
Let it escape you,
and then follow
as you will.