Atop a cliff a rock suddenly
appears after years of erosion
by wind, rain, highway construction
below where cars vibrate by
like fish in the river
coasting downstream
or rippling against current
to laze in a placid pool
dug under stone by spring
swirling runoff for decades
all under bald eagle’s perch
on the tallest tree’s limb
stretched out over river water
flowing below like a highway
like a rock above loosened, tumbling
swooping like an eagle after trout shadow
like a rock cracking off windshield glass
leaving ripples behind
as both continue journeys.
Diane Webster has worked 30 years at the same newspaper moving into different departments over the years. Her work has appeared in Illya’s Honey, River Poet’s Journal, The Hurricane Review and other literary magazines.
