Diane DiGennaro

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

In this issue, Yvonne shares two Spring poems:

Quenched (Environment section)

The faucet knocks, groans
Hissing out cold water
into her glass
She gulps
Fills again

Prospecting (Literary Women section)

Mining for emotions
A solitary task
Best done squatting at the edge of the
mind's meandering brook
with your grandfather's sieve
at dawn