Running Fence, by Ruth Bavetta

 
Running Fence
 
Improbable as a line of laundry,
indispensable as a spine,
a lightning bolt
that celebrates the contour of hills, 
it fades into fog, rises into sun.
A dash of chalk against the summer brown,
describing the wind,
it disappears into a valley, reappears
on the hill, curves
over a crest, gone,
returned
to plunge
at last
into the sea.
 
 Ruth Bavetta

This poem was first published in Ruth Bavetta's book, Future Pigments, FutureCycle Press.

Ruth Bavetta’s poems have been published in Rattle, Nimrod, North American Review, Slant, Tar River Poetry, Spillway, Hanging Loose, Poetry East and many others. She has four books, Embers on the Stairs (Moon Tide Press,) Fugitive Pigments (FutureCycle Press,) Flour Water Salt (Futurecycle Press) and No Longer at This Address (Aldrich Press.) She writes at a messy desk overlooking the Pacific Ocean.