The woman stands behind a table
selling gadgets no one sees
while a cinder block wall has her back…
guardian bikers shoulder to shoulder.
Dark blue paint edges the wall
in mountain sky hung with white clouds.
Yellow sunshine haphazards a splash,
leaving white edges of aura
that surround the woman.
Inside the burn of yellow paint
a white cross towers so large
one steps back for perspective,
for recognition, for understanding;
a deciphering of tattoo imagery
stitched on flesh or as solid
as the wall trekking behind
Diane Webster’ goal is to remain open to poetry ideas in everyday life or nature or an overheard phrase and to write from her perspective at the moment. Many nights she falls asleep juggling images to fit into a poem. Her work has appeared in Philadelphia Poets, Illya’s Honey, River Poets Journal and other literary magazines.