Poetry at work

So, the second poem I had up on my board at work is this one:

Because You Asked about the Line between Prose and Poetry
Howard Nemerov

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.