ISSN 1556-4975

OffCourse Literary Journal

 Published by Ricardo and Isabel Nirenberg since 1998


Poems by Diane Webster



The door to silence
has a squeaky hinge
that scrapes across dirt
blown up against
its bottom half … buried.

With each tug at the door
the rusted knocker taps
back and forth
like a blackbird’s beak
on a window pane.

Finally open
to squeeze through
like air sucked in,
blown out to fill lungs,
but the door to silence
refuses closure.

Some people claim
madness between.



See this silent exterior?
Beneath — thunder
swells my heart;
lightning snaps
behind my eyes,
itches to release
from my fingertips.

Go ahead.
Gaze into my eyes.
See the Medusa stare,
but you’ll only see her
a moment before
you join the statues
petrified behind me.


as a statue forever
staring toward the horizon
in morning future,
in moonlit past
in bird shit dignity
in rainstorm sniffles.

In a snowfall last night
whipped by wind,
drifts whisk into eyes
like Little Orphan Annie
blind fluttering flakes
into tears sliding
in sunrise thaw.


Early April
morning sunshine
daffodil blossoms
squint until
awakens them
into wide-eyed


A lone boat floats
a single fisherman
as one reflection

while a solitary duck
vees multiple ripples
to the lake shore

cast after cast
no catch today.


Author Diane Webster's work has appeared in El Portal, New English Review, North Dakota Quarterly, Verdad and other literary magazines. She had micro-chaps published by Origami Poetry Press in 2022 and 2023 and was nominated for Best of the Net in 2022.

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