How to Get There
by Ruth Bavetta

I’m no good
at giving directions, always forget
the names of streets,
just point myself the right
way, past the big green house
turn left at the tall brick wall,
right at the street heading out.
Six months after I met him, I left
my house, my street, my town, steering
books, socks, dogs, cats, kids
from their known coordinates right
across the valley to this house, where
we’ve lived for thirty years, twenty
since the children grew and left. Even
now I can’t tell you the right way
to get where you’re going.
Once you’ve left,
go right on down the street
and when you get to the place
where you need to turn,

SOURCE: Previously published in the author’s collection Embers on the Stairs (Moontide Press).

AUTHOR’S PHOTO CAPTION: The photo is the road leading away from my former house.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:  I moved from San Bernardino to Redlands, California, to marry my second husband.  Less than 15 miles, but the most important move of my life.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Ruth Bavetta is an artist and poet whose poems have been published in Rhino, Rattle, Nimrod, Tar River Poetry, North American Review, Spillway, and Poetry New Zealand, and many others. Her work is included in four anthologies. She has published three books, Flour Water Salt (FutureCycle Press) Embers on the Stairs(Moontide Press) and Fugitive Pigments (FutureCycle Press.). 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.