Monday, November 26, 2012

A Poem by Diane Webster


White cloth captured by weed barbs
violently flapping, twisting in wind
to escape, release, rejoin currents
swirling, barging ahead and around…
free to fly without effort
like crows in hover mode
calm with wind
when all around struggles
against like this white cloth
playing dead against the weed,
gentling uncurling its grip,
limp until gusted away
in gleeful wave goodbye sucker!

Diane Webster's biggest challenge as a poet is to remain open to idea opportunities whether that's by noticing a blooming pansy in a pavement crack or seeing a hawk scowling from its perch or a woman guided down the sidewalk by a man with his hand on her neck.  Her work has appeared in "Illya's Honey," "The Hurricane Review," "Philadelphia Poets" and other literary magazines.

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