Saturday, July 16, 2016

Poems I Admire #16

Let there always be
Ruth Bavetta

the bright juice of oranges,
sun on the kitchen tiles,
a small nonessential bird
unraveling morning,

silvery snail trails, blue iris,
the gopher, the palm tree, the goat
that found its way into the house,

pigeons stitched onto telephone wires,
the clear sound of the sea,
a time when everyone is away,
a plate of milk, a tin of strawberry jam.

But never again the empty house,
never again the open gate,
the algae drowning
the abandoned pool,

the man by the edge
beginning the dirge.
The still water. The small
blue shoe.


First appeared in Antiphon


Ruth Bavetta’s poems have been published in Rattle, Nimrod, Tar River Review, North American Review, Spillway, Hanging Loose, Rhino, Poetry East, and Poetry New Zealand, among others, and is included in the anthologies, Wait a Minute; I Have to Take off My Bra, Feast, Pirene’s Fountain Beverage Anthology, Forgetting Home and Twelve Los Angeles Poets.

She has published two books, Fugitive Pigments and Embers on the Stairs. Her latest book, Flour, Water, Salt, will appear in mid-June 2016.

She loves the light on November afternoons, the smell of the ocean, a warm back to curl against in bed. She hates pretense, fundamentalism and sauerkraut.

1 comment:

  1. A truly lovely poem. Thank you, Dan (and Ruth).

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