Dinghy lies open like a hand
inviting another to hold it
tempting you to step inside
attempting balance between
wood, water, foot…accomplished
like a fetus resting
you lie amongst once-concentric rings
of the former tree mirroring human ribs
against year growth both rocking ripples
back and forth in imagined journeys future
and experiences past splintered and scarred
whether on plank or skin stretched.
Maybe Vikings perfected burial aboard
a current-driven ship set ablaze to wander
until sizzling char and ash undulated
across ocean destinations forevermore.
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 “The Hurricane Review,” “Eunoia Review,” “Illya’s Honey,” and other literary magazines.