{"id":2440,"date":"2014-04-21T19:32:38","date_gmt":"2014-04-21T19:32:38","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/?page_id=2440"},"modified":"2014-04-21T19:32:38","modified_gmt":"2014-04-21T19:32:38","slug":"diane-webster-april-2014","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/diane-webster-april-2014\/","title":{"rendered":"Diane Webster, April 2014"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong>Silent Friends<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>She wore boots with an attitude<br \/>\nand drove a silver pickup like the Lone Ranger.<br \/>\nSometimes I\u2019d meet her at the corner<br \/>\nfor two, three days, then I\u2019d miss her.<br \/>\nEither I was late or she early<br \/>\nor maybe she was sick, on vacation.<br \/>\nBut then I\u2019d see her again.<br \/>\nI want to know her name, where she lives.<br \/>\nIs she married? Single? Does she like to laugh?<br \/>\nI know where she works. I could meet her.<br \/>\nI could talk to her. I could find out.<br \/>\nWhat if she doesn\u2019t like me?<br \/>\nWhat if she doesn\u2019t wonder about me like I do her?<br \/>\nWhat if we\u2019re only waving friends?<br \/>\nI want to leave notes on her pickup<br \/>\nor call her office.<br \/>\nWould I know her voice?<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Woman Man<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>I am not<br \/>\na man<br \/>\nnor<br \/>\ndo I want<br \/>\nto be<br \/>\none.<br \/>\nI am a woman<br \/>\naware<br \/>\nof joys and sorrows<br \/>\nas if<br \/>\nmine.<br \/>\nI love a woman as she<br \/>\nloves me more<br \/>\nthan a man<br \/>\nas a woman<br \/>\ncould only know.<br \/>\nWith hands<br \/>\nas well as mind<br \/>\na melding of souls.<br \/>\nCondemn me<br \/>\nnot<br \/>\nfor I am<br \/>\nnot<br \/>\na man.<br \/>\n&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #ffffff;\">.<\/span><br \/>\n<strong>A Woman Met<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>How differently we fit like fork and spoon<br \/>\nyet bent the same.<br \/>\nSo long since being touched &#8212;<br \/>\ngoose bumps on my naked body<br \/>\nlying on the bed, waiting for her.<br \/>\nHands shiver a whisper and sizzle coals.<br \/>\nNo betrayal of love past, gone, dead.<br \/>\nMy heart expands but never forgets.<br \/>\nI can\u2019t die while still alive,<br \/>\nand I live.<br \/>\nI live with this other<br \/>\ntoday! tonight!<br \/>\ntomorrow? forever?<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><span id=\"yui_3_13_0_1_1398091027889_224407\" style=\"font-family: 'Times New Roman';\"><span id=\"yui_3_13_0_1_1398091027889_224412\" style=\"font-size: medium;\">Diane Webster&#8217;s goal is to capture a moment of nature with words so others can see what she has seen. Her work has appeared in &#8220;Muddy River Poetry Review,&#8221; &#8220;The Rusty Nail,&#8221; &#8220;River Poets Journal&#8221; and other literary magazines.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Silent Friends &nbsp; She wore boots with an attitude and drove a silver pickup like the Lone Ranger. Sometimes I\u2019d meet her at the corner for two, three days, then I\u2019d miss her. Either I was late or she early or maybe she was sick, on vacation. But then I\u2019d see her again. I want [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":934,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-2440","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v24.2 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>Diane Webster, April 2014 - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/diane-webster-april-2014\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Diane Webster, April 2014 - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Silent Friends &nbsp; She wore boots with an attitude and drove a silver pickup like the Lone Ranger. 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Sometimes I\u2019d meet her at the corner for two, three days, then I\u2019d miss her. Either I was late or she early or maybe she was sick, on vacation. But then I\u2019d see her again. 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