Because You Asked about the Line between Prose and Poetry
by HOWARD NEMEROV
Sparrows were feeding in a freezing drizzle
That while you watched turned into pieces of snow
Riding a gradient invisible
From silver aslant to random, white, and slow.
There came a moment that you couldn't tell.
And then they clearly flew instead of fell.
—-
Royer, Pièces de clavecin, Book 1, No. 11: Le Vertigo
Performed by Jean Rondeau