I am not a poet.

She does not speak to me in verse.

Perhaps I am deaf.

I think I see her shadow.

But every crack and crevice is silent.

I am not a poet. 

She hides from my view.

When I chase after her in the darkness.

Perhaps I am blind.

Should I call out to her?

But which words should I string together?

I am not a poet.

I want to sing her a melody,

But my voice gives no low hum or soft tune.

Perhaps I am mute.

Perhaps I am waiting

On the wrong person, because after all,

I am not a poet.