Ann Privateer
I started writing nature poems in my early 20’s, quickly
jotting down thoughts after the first thaw when it was warm
enough to walk on icy creek water without wearing a jacket.
Nature consisted of an exciting mix of elements, challenging me
to put dizzying feelings into words.
That’s how it was, growing up in the suburbs of Cleveland, Ohio.
Some of those stark differences made their way with me to
California where I married, concluded a BA in English, had two
children, and taught school. The water is still icy some of the
time, but now it reflects family as often as it does flowers.
Ann Privateer Poems
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On a Sheer Cliff
Climbing through
ungraspable corrugations
of rock, hard slits,
steep drop-offs,
a puzzle of crouches
and crestfallen leaps,
no place to take cover;
yet, exhilaration waits
at every corner. Palpitations
embrace dark air,
view petrified heights
that interrupts stone
concentration.
Fear worms whisper
of black slopes below,
ledges barrel a curve,
wedged bulk shrouded
in crystal silence.
The summit: immensity
of perilous height to get to
in the end.
Attracted to Light
An ambulance backs
down a driveway
lights flash
no siren
squad car lights
glint as people
fill the street
some carry candles,
or banners.
Some barefoot,
girls wear
blue gowns,
men hoist
a platform, carry
a statue,
women chant
another squad car
follows, bookends
of light around people
above them, a silhouette
of closely
congregating crows
before street lamps flicker,
crows on a wire
mesmerized
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