I have said for years I like poetry but what I mean by that is observations from a curious, alert, agile mind, with an eye for compression. The mind that is self-critical and with a sense of humour. It could be other forms. A nimble, generous conversationalist, an astute playful piece of sculpture, ink-stamped marks or song lyrics. It is a paying attention and living with loose limbs but practiced gestures and not reinforcing what the person already believes.
Poetry is less likely than a novel or article to ramble on in its own ruts at length. But sometimes it does until it finds a new path.