Because You Asked about the Line between Prose and Poetry

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.

                                         

                                         - Howard Nemerov

I heard Billy Collins reading this on KUOW on Monday, because he had been asked this question by the interviewer and because it was – for once – snowing rather than raining in Seattle.  

Just read it through a few times, in light of its title.  If you don't get the shivers, then I don't know what to say to you.