What is poetry? This art form isn’t willing to be defined, labeled, or nailed down. Its words are the chiseled marble of language. It is a paint-spattered canvas, but the poet uses words instead of paint, and you are the canvas.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but it is up to the author to write those thousand words. (Richard Petracca) The road winds gracefully amidst the trees. Is this all you see when you look at the picture? Or does your mind go wild thinking of what could be at either end…