Relay

Posted on January 23, 2013 by Luisa A. Igloria

Blow on the stones,
clap wood and flint
to parry cold and
bleakest night; plant
decoys before sprinting
off with real fire—

What boldened rush,
what streak through
burning brush? A duty
bidden by the moon:
to steal the secret
of the buckle’s gleam—

O birdling, o almost
completely fledged,
the branch on which you
teeter is alight: come
now to bridge the air,
no vertigo or fear—

—Luisa A. Igloria
01 23 2013

In response to Via Negativa: Buckles to my shoes and small stone (210).

About Luisa A. Igloria

Poet Luisa A. Igloria (website) is the author of Juan Luna’s Revolver (2009 Ernest Sandeen Prize, University of Notre Dame Press), Trill & Mordent (WordTech Editions, 2005) and 8 other books. When she isn’t writing, reading, or teaching, she cooks with her family, hand-binds books, listens to tango music, and keeps her radar tuned for cool lizard sightings.
Posted in Guest writers, Poems & poem-like things | Tagged | Spot a typo? Please let us know

4 Responses to Relay

  1. barleybooks says:
    January 24, 2013 at 3:32 am

    I love this: the tautness of the language, the controlled energy, the empathy, the story full of holes – like the fabric of a dream that is falling apart even as you scribble it on waking.

  2. marly youmans says:
    January 24, 2013 at 3:02 pm

    “alight”: Like the way the branch seems to move, simply because of the vigor of the prior stanzas.

  3. Luisa A. Igloria says:
    January 24, 2013 at 7:58 pm

    Thanks, Marly. I love what your eye lights on as you read…

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