There is poetry in the colour of Autumn leaves

There is poetry in the beauty of empty roads

There is poetry in empty waiting seats

There is poetry in the vanity of self portraits

There is poetry in the ordinariness of a quiet drink

There is poetry in the flying formation of seasonal birds

There is poetry in the soft droplets of water on the vehicle glass

There is poetry in the creative mess of a living room space

There is poetry in the branches of the Winter trees

There is poetry in the sign on the Metro Link train

There is poetry in the figure of a woman walking on the Cougar lake bridge in Winter