A Sail in the Seam

I squeezed under the front door's rubber seal to see the yard in the morning. Near the railing post, a dry maple seed lay flat, its wing veined like stiff parchment. I nudged the seed pod with the tip of my shoe to test its weight; it drifted an inch across the grit. Kneeling on the plank, I carefully guided the rounded pod into a narrow seam between two floorboards. It pinched snugly into place, holding the papery blade upright like a tiny mast. A light breeze stirred past the steps, bending the wing slightly, but the joint held. I sat back against the railing to watch it sway.