This is not a poem, sorry prompt writer.

Mark looked at Marie. Her jaw rested solemnly on her palm as she stared out the car's window. He bent over the middle armrest, his eyes looking hard at her. Marie's eyes flickered over the window. Mark gazed through her hair at the scene outside of her window, what in the world made her content to have her cheek pressed up against the cold pane, looking serious. His phone fell off his lap as he leaned closer towards her side of the car. The scene looked normal and dull. It was the same gray, flat land as yesterday. Grass cut short, trees baren. What was so interesting in the plain houses and wood fences. If anything they looked shackled. His words snapped her out of her serene space.

"What are you looking at?" She looked at him, utterly surprised, like she forgot people were a thing and that speaking was allowed. Hesitantly, she faced him.

"Everything out there." Her response was simple but Mark was even more confused. She tried to explain better, "It's really pretty out there, if you know what your looking for. It's like a sense, you know?"

Baffled he responded, "No..? How do you see so much when no one else does?"

"Because I had to entertain myself by finding the small pretty things out there. Like the grass blending together and the power lines stretching," As she talked, her composure changed like she was a small child eagerly talking about a toy. Her eyes became excited and crinkled, and her mouth had a dash of a grin on it. Mark laughed as she practically bounced up and down while she explained how you had to learn to see things differently, beautifully. "It's like you have a map in your head that is never shown to you, but it charts and marks the tiny perfect things you see and you look out to try and top the ones you already have, and it's so fun that you always manage it by seeing it so weirdly that it's gorgeous!"

She was so energetic and eager about the topic that Mark thought sadly, she must have no one to talk to about this.

He placed his hand on his chin and patiently heard all she had to say about the topic. The very backseat people put down their phones to look at the pair, smiled mischievously and listened in. The man seating on the passenger seat twisted around to hear the conversation that ended the quietness of the ride. The driver looked into his mirror to look at all of the passengers unconsciously leaning in, and smiled. The driver thought to himself, I knew I was right not to give her a phone for that long. He grinned, proud of himself.