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How to Get to My House
Ruth Bavetta

From Los Angeles, where I was born,
take the San Bernardino Freeway east
past San Gabriel, Glendora, Covina,
up the hill by Forest Lawn,
down into the traffic clumped
where the 210 joins the 10.
Turn on the radio if you like,
there’s quite a way to go.

Pomona, Claremont, Ontario.
Here, if you want,
you can turn off at the airport,
catch a flight to someplace else.
Fontana, Rialto, Bloomington.
You may not have noticed it
but the road has been climbing all the way.
That’s San Bernardino on the left.

You’re in Redlands now,
the climb is a little steeper.
Exit on the Yucaipa offramp.
Just over the bridge,
turn right on Highview.
Stay there through two marriages,
a divorce, a child custody suit,
a brain tumor and a mother
with Alzheimer’s.
Soon you’ll reach where I live.

This poem first appeared in Fox Adoption Magazine (April 2015).
Used here with the author’s permission.



During her life, Ruth Bavetta has moved from geology/paleontology to painting to poetry. She writes at a messy desk overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Visual art informs many of her poems, as does the landscape of Southern California, where she has lived all her life. Ruth also writes of cooking, of her Italian immigrant family, the experience of growing old, the singularity of toothpicks, and the sorrow of Afghanistan. She likes the light on November afternoons and the smell of the ocean; she hates pretense, fundamentalism, and sauerkraut.  Learn more about her at



Post New Comment:
Ruth, My email = Cheers, David
Posted 09/26/2016 03:53 AM
Greetings Ruth, I like your poem. Want to exchange books? Peace & gratitude, David
Posted 09/26/2016 03:51 AM
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