Ruth Bavetta
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Grandmother’s Clock

Come Daylight Savings Time
I can almost hear her.
Coffee grounds are good for ferns.
Never use black straight from the tube.
If you’re making chicken salad,
veal is cheaper than chicken.
Don’t use the knob to move the hands,
it mixes up the chimes.

Press the earth around the plant
to keep the air away from the roots.
Never go down to the main beach
and mix with the common people.
Dresden is the city for opera.
Glass looks best against the light.
Sometimes, in the middle
of the night I wake and hear her
alone in the dark.

Ruth Bavetta

Ruth Bavetta’s poems have been published in Rhino, Rattle, Nimrod, Tar River Poetry, North American Review, Spillway, and Poetry New Zealand, among others. Poems appear in four anthologies. She has published two books, Embers on the Stairs (Moontide Press) and Fugitive Pigments (FutureCycle Press.) Two more books, No Longer at this Address (Tebot Bach) and Flour, Water, Salt (FutureCycle Press) are forthcoming. 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.