Chairs Rest Like old married couple almost holding hands two lawn chairs rest at lake’s edge. Arms spread in anticipation of sunset each evening before frogs launch into serenade, and waves lap against shore; sound of kissing. Diane Webster‘s goal is to remain open to poetry ideas in everyday life, nature or an overheard phrase […]Read more "Chairs Rest"
Every year frogs hatch in our pool. Each night, a grinding chorus, throaty and pleasing, through the window as dusk falls. They’re all going to die, my husband says, they’ll get sucked through the drain. It ruins it for him. Not me, I love their dark, wet sound. It doesn’t seem so different from our […]Read more "Filling The Night"