The flagstone rock leans
like a spread-eagle suspect
against the house
with a fluffed up sparrow
resting atop the crag
in full south side sunshine
while siding and granite bounce back warmth
toastier than cousins wing to wing
as insulation on telephone line
while the neighborhood cat
lazes on its lookout windowsill
just above and out of sight.
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.