That a difference exists is remarked upon,
voiced in the peripheral  stare
the quizzical arched brow
and so remains unremarkable itself
until  given the distinction of breath;
'Poetry is a bit heavy for the morning isn't it?'
The rhetoric is followed without pause by
lines from Spike that rhyme from tongue
as a ***** ballad might punctuate the air between
rounds of Stella. Whist I might despair
at constrained definitions there is a concurrency
of  acknowledgement with slight smile
at some appreciation of verse, a remark of difference.
I close a leaf and see the possibilities
of Sycamore and wordpecker.