I find poetry in the long golden grass and wheat-covered fields blowing in the wind on the way to the Berkshires.
I find poetry in the rain tapping against the window pane.
I find poetry in the flowers blooming in the spring and releasing petals in the summer.
I find poetry in the crisp air of the fall and the cold chilly air of the winter.
I find poetry in the snow dancing down from the sky.
I find poetry in the rays of sunlight twinkling down over the wrinkled sea.
I find poetry in a pencil whisking across the page and dropping down words from above.