Photograph by Myles Boisen |
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NOW
by Ann Privateer In the forest far from hiding places eyes peer darkly. Burned out ravines pool creekside sunlight. Wishes, arbitrarily lost for hours on endless Big Ben when we see physics clear as amber resin to become a pendulum. Immune jewels sleep here now BETWEEN by Ann Privateer the silent water the wind spends nickels, birds race clouds on the roof above my room filled with alone while the street sings activity— zing went the storm thunder copulating with lightening slapping seeds of ion, the sky's hiatus ANOTHER by Ann Privateer crack in the wall silent changes cloud clarity. my cup fills automatically when thoughts deepen and distance can not be bridged  Ann Privateer Ann Privateer is a poet, painter, photographer, and retired teacher from Cleveland, Ohio, who resides in northern California and spends part of the year in Paris, France, where she tries to keep up with her grand daughter, Lilas. Ann's poems have appeared in Ink, Sweat, and Tears a UK Blog, Sacramento News and Review, Manzanita, Mamazine, Poetry Now, Ophidian, Tapestries, Suisun Valley Review, The Sacramento Anthology: One Hundred Poems, and Tiger's Eye to name a few. |
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