Poetry Dispatch No. 33 | November 29, 2005
a fence between
the cemetery and the road
leans toward the road
as though the whole earth
were ringing-
that’s how many crickets
clothespins-
like skinny wooden birds
on the line
even her charley horse
brings a new thrill
to our lovemaking
a single snowflake falling-
or are my eyes
just going bad
kitchen window
held open till dark
by a wooden spoon
what’s left from breakfast-
hard toast with the word “birds”
scratched into it
our beautiful love
on such thin ice
we can’t even shiver
orange peels
in the snow
curling toward the sun
an icy evening
a bowl of noodles and thoughts
of a naked woman
by Ronald Baatz
from IN A CLAY PIG’S EYE, Seastone Editions (2005) limited edition, 100 copies
Ronald Baatz sees the big picture in small, seemingly simple poems; publishes in obscure, small presses; appears invisible in today’s world of raucous voices. Silence.
Every poem is a new awakening to an old truth we seldom find the words to say or see. His work is difficult to locate but worth the search. He lives in Mt. Tremper, NY. There he goes now…Norbert Blei
mountains disappear in fog
and i want to go right along
with them
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