Quenched

by Diane DiGennaro

The faucet knocks, groans
Hissing out cold water
into her glass
She gulps
Fills again
and savors this second glass
Water cold like
April stones in the brook

The half empty glass
now perches on the window's ledge
She's off to stake the beans
this May morning

Her sweaty forearms are dusted
with chartreuse pollen
by the time she returns
and spies her glass
Half empty or half full?

She drinks up the dregs
and lets it
rest a moment in her cheeks
before swallowing
It is wet
That is enough
She is off to pick the early spinach

Diane has pounded keys all of her life. She wrote stories on her mother's IBM Selectric typewriter which sat for years on the dining room table in lieu of turkeys. Truly, the typewriter provided more sustenance than her mother's hot meals.

Diane wrote for a feminist news quarterly as a teen. Her keystroke has lightened with each successive computer until she feels that the words are flying out on their own.

She has freelanced for PrimeTime Cape Cod, The Burlington Free Press (VT), the national magazines Adoptive Families and New Moon, as well as a plethora of parenting publications.

Diane wonders whether the keyboard will be obsolete before she completes her novel. Maybe she'll just talk to a screen and it will spit out the tale. She'll miss those keys, for sure; they've unlocked a great many secrets. You can email Diane at Riodd@comcast.net