LEAF PARACHUTES

by Diane Webster

Maple leaves parachute,
land in silent ripples
upon the moat and float

toward castle walls
where they clutter together
to snag stony leaf holds.
Wind bolsters them higher

to flutter on rampart heights
until legions gather, scatter
in the courtyard to serrate ankles,
trip dwellers into buried

piles abandoned to decomposition
and curling parchment of history.

FENCE FRAYS

Old wooden fence
frays along tree’s grain
waning the strength
of the plank meant
to keep out or keep in.
Wind whips through
blowing from one side
to the other of original
knothole displaying
an eyebrow raised
in timber surprise.

Weather untangles
threads of growth
until the knothole merges
into splits dangling
on barbed wire back up
until strength releases
a fall into grasses
that eventually stab
between and keep on growing.

CHASING GRAVITY

A mountain stream chases gravity
over rocks in splashing hilarity
under fallen trees it ducks below mostly,
but if it hits the bark,
it regroups and flows.

It speeds in snowboard flair
around shore’s bend,
pushes droplets far up the bank
to wet frowning rocks
and laughs as it waves goodbye.

Up ahead a rest time
in a pool lazy in depth where
snores lap against boulders
until gravity teases; the stream follows
and dashes in giggling ripples.

Why resist?
The stream bungee jumps
into a waterfall and blurs
into angel gossamer wings
until it rejoins itself,
a breathless pond regroups,
recoups its losses,
then feels the pull again.

BIO

Diane Webster lives in western Colorado. Her poetry has appeared in North Dakota Quarterly, New English Review, Studio One, Jimson Weed, and elsewhere. Her haiku/senryu have appeared in Pebbles, Kokako, Enchanted Garden Haiku. Five micro-chaps have been published by Origami Poetry Press. Diane has been nominated for Best of the Net and three times for a Pushcart. Diane retired in 2022 after 40 years in the newspaper industry. She was a featured writer in Macrame Literary Journal and WestWard Quarterly. Her website is: www.dianewebster.com