Winter Mailbox by Diane Webster

Some silly child thought
it grand fun to open
every mailbox along the street,
perhaps making it faster
for the mailman tomorrow
when all he has to do
is insert mail and slam
the lid shut with the box
nodding agreement,
and icicles plunge
into tire tracks melting
a parallel trail
pausing at each house.

Except one mailbox lid
collects snow undisturbed
by arriving and departing mail --
a perfect mound
of snowflakes offered
to the sun to consume
or brushed aside by a letter
signed, “Love, anyone.”



Diane Webster enjoys the challenge of picturing images into words to fit her poems. If she can envision her poem, she can write what she sees and her readers can visualize her ideas. Her work has appeared in The Evansville Review, Philadelphia Poets, Better Than Starbucks, and other literary magazines.