Weeds rejoiced
when the house’s owners
stopped coming home.
Curious, they grew
and rejoiced again
when plywood covered
windows and doors,
but cautious too
they grew tendrils into cracks
and peered inside
the night-induced darkness.
No one home, no one coming home:
weeds owned the lot!
A part of the wooden fence fell
atop the festivities,
but no injuries reported
as weeds pushed out from underneath,
and the contest was on.
Highest, biggest, strongest weed wins!
Diane Webster enjoys the challenge of picturing images into words to fit her poems. If she can envision her poem, she can write what she sees and her readers can visualize her ideas. Her work has appeared in "Better Than Starbucks," "Eunoia Review," Philadelphia Poets," and other literary magazines.
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