Two Poems by Diane Webster

Achieved Again

The old woman totters
down the driveway
toward her morning newspaper
tossed out like bird seed
awaiting early risers
to peck away best tidbits
like this old woman
who uses her grabber pole
to scoop up the rolled paper.

She shuffles back toward home
like doves landing on telephone wires
teetering back and forth
until balance is achieved again.


Cancer Twin

The body gets bored,
decides to experiment
by mixing cells
to see what will happen.

Lo and behold it births
growth magnificent
with rapid regeneration.
Eureka! rushes throughout
the system of blood, bones and tissue
to nourish this new addition,
this new creation until the host
discovers its existence
and plots its demise with assassins.

It floats out spies
to lie in safe houses
until the attack abates.
Snipers crawl forth
and shoot lookouts
so embryo stretches outward.

It matures, flings off
residual parries to its life.
It flourishes as body rejoices
at first, then fears
tinkering twin.




Diane Webster has published in “El Portal,” “North Dakota Quarterly,” “New English Review,” “Verdad,” and other literary magazines. She had a micro-chap published by Origami Poetry Press in 2022, 2023 and one forthcoming in 2024. One of Diane’s poems was nominated for Best of the Net in 2022.

Two Poems by Diane Webster

Rust Background

Rust is the background
to the white paint chiseled
into graffiti petroglyphs.

The hunter stalks through
rocks and stone
for a deer creature
poised for flight;
its antler carving
snarls in branches,
in hiding.

No other picture
glorifies the kill.
No picture celebrates
the hunter empty-handed.
Rust awaits another
hunting expedition
as rain and sunshine
strip away more paint.


Shell Echoes

The abandoned Shell gas station
lies washed up near the highway.
Heatwaves rise like dreams
in traffic blurring past
to destinations beyond.

Weeds are allowed
to grow in cracks
like tree seeds dropped
into boulder crevices
to sprout and heave roots
like Samson leaning
on the temple pillars.

Shell gas station;
a conch shell pushed
ashore by waves
like mirage heat
boiling once reality.

Listen to the conch
echo whispers of the ocean
like abandoned gas station
hearing tires buzz on the pavement.




Diane Webster‘s goal is to remain open to poetry ideas in everyday life, nature, or an overheard phrase and to write. Diane enjoys the challenge of transforming images into words to fit her poems. Her work has appeared in El Portal, North Dakota Quarterly, Eunoia Review, and other literary magazines. She also had a micro-chap published by Origami Poetry Press in 2022.

Two Poems by Diane Webster

Ancestor Twin

My twin smiles in the lake’s surface,
a mirror where a feisty kitten
peeks behind to find the intruder
speedy to sprint around the corner
no matter how fast one looks.

I duck down to shrink my target,
but as I sneak a look over the weeds,
I am visible again and again
like a prairie dog in a hole
wondering if an eagle still soars.

A trout breaches the façade
into shattering ripples
scattering ashore to dissipate
among the weeds tickling, luring
a moment in disturbance.

My twin smears a blur,
but if I squint, I see
the resemblance in the old photo
of an ancestor cousin
staring into the camera.


Sand Everyone

I feel like sand at the beach
wearing everyone’s footsteps
coming, going against
my grains depressed
by their passings.

I can’t wait for them to leave
taking all their disruptive shovels,
stabbing umbrella poles,
sand castle tumors.

I can’t wait for wind
and surf to rid me
of their ravage
so I can greet
the sunrise pure.




Diane Webster‘s goal is to remain open to poetry ideas in everyday life, nature or an overheard phrase and to write. Diane enjoys the challenge of transforming images into words to fit her poems. Her work has appeared in El Portal, North Dakota Quarterly, Eunoia Review and other literary magazines. She also had a micro-chap published by Origami Poetry Press.