You dared me to

make poetry 
from nothing. 
You challenged my ability
to make the mundane beautiful.
 
Romanticize doing the dishes 
or mowing the lawn.
 
Never realizing the water running over my hands is my sacrament,
the steady rhythmic movement over my lawn is my meditation.

You thought you had me.
You thought you would catch me 
without lyric or verse.
 
But, sir, you were sorely mistaken
Remember, I made a poem of you
when you are really just mediocre prose.