Poetry by Diane Webster
The red tailed hawk swooped
and grasped the highest branch
on the weeping willow tree,
and like ripples from a rock
tossed in a pond all little birds
raced away into anonymity
inside elm tree branches,
into neighborhoods blocks away
where houses shielded sight lines,
and all descended quiet…
like when the schoolyard bully
sat atop the slide…waiting…
catching movement from classroom
windows of chickens peeking
over the sills or around curtains,
swings swinging last momentum
of bailout leap and run around corner
where sparrows arrow barely
above the ground and snuggle
inside thick evergreen shrubbery
like children huddled, plotting
who should sneak around
and shove the bully from his perch.
About the Poet
Diane Webster grew up in Eastern Oregon before she moved to Colorado. She enjoys drives in the mountains to view all the wildlife and scenery and takes amateur photographs. Her work has appeared in “Canyon Voices,” “WestWard Quarterly,” “Poet’s Espresso,” and other literary magazines.
This is so amazing.
A cool poetic ride on the back of red-tailed hawk.