Sentence

My own, I am I know my hardest
and my most exacting prisoner,
most watchful sentinel braced

against the threshold— And so
in wakefulness sometimes I much prefer
the randomness of sound unpinned

from any explanation— the beeper
of a quarry truck trilling distant
like a digital alarm, the vowels

spelled by dueling chickadees
in the air. Even the ragged fringe
along a line of trees reverses

the abrupt shear where ridge
meets rain-filled sky into
a kind of noise.

Luisa A. Igloria
01.26.2011

In response to today’s Morning Porch entry.

Series Navigation← Landscape, with Small Flakes and Far-off BandoneónSpun →

Poet Luisa A. Igloria (Poetry Foundation web page, author webpage ) is the winner of the 2015 Resurgence Prize (UK), the world’s first major award for ecopoetry, selected by former UK poet laureate Sir Andrew Motion, Alice Oswald, and Jo Shapcott. She is the author of What is Left of Wings, I Ask (2018 Center for the Book Arts Letterpress Chapbook Prize, selected by Natasha Trethewey); Bright as Mirrors Left in the Grass (Kudzu House Press eChapbook selection for Spring 2015), Ode to the Heart Smaller than a Pencil Eraser (Utah State University Press, 2014 May Swenson Prize), Night Willow (Phoenicia Publishing, 2014), The Saints of Streets (University of Santo Tomas Publishing House, 2013), Juan Luna’s Revolver (2009 Ernest Sandeen Prize, University of Notre Dame Press), and nine other books. She is a member of the core faculty of the MFA Creative Writing Program at Old Dominion University which she directed from 2009-2015. In 2018, she was the inaugural Glasgow Distinguished Writer in Residence at Washington and Lee University. When she isn’t writing, reading, or teaching, she cooks with her family, knits, hand-binds books, and listens to tango music.

7 Replies to “Sentence”

  1. Peter, Dave, Dale – thank you all. As I have said this past month and more – I am as much a beneficiary of these collaborations. And I didn’t mean to sound cavalier when I used the word “exercise” in some previous post a while back — the challenges that meet me here (though mostly self-defined or self-imposed) are tough- and if I can come away with lines that might have even the smidgen of potential grace, I’m crazy happy…

  2. I have another smallish tweak for the poem, Dave.
    Here’s the revision. Thanks, Luisa

    * * *

    Sentence

    My own, I am I know my hardest
    and my most exacting prisoner,
    most watchful sentinel braced

    against the threshold— And so
    in wakefulness sometimes I much prefer
    the randomness of sound unpinned

    from any explanation— the beeper
    of a quarry truck trilling distant
    like a digital alarm, the vowels

    spelled by dueling chickadees
    in the air. Even the ragged fringe
    along a line of trees reverses

    the abrupt shear where ridge
    meets rain-filled sky into
    a kind of noise.

    (revised 01 27 2011)
    Luisa A. Igloria

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