While I don't consider myself a poet (I haven't entered a poetry contest since high school) I think of mine as being similar to vignettes--short captured images which detail emotions and thoughts of a moment. Any more than that, and I put it into prose.
This one is an attempt to relay some of the "simple" magic in the world around me.
Clean arcs of water in buttery just-dawn light.
A rustle of tree leaves.
Distant mountains silent. Roars yet to be discovered.
Mornings of cloud, plaintiff meows, one-counts for 2% dispensing.
A puffy white blob–pursed lips with trailing attendants–against a sheet of blue-gray. Turning slowly.
The mother-ship has finally come for me.