This entry is part 81 of 95 in the series Morning Porch Poems: Winter 2010-11


Midpoint of noon, in the quiet for a moment
the day coheres. Worry is a beached
white whale that’s come to rest
awhile on the outer lip of afternoon.
In Spanish, the word for rest
is Descanso— when the shutters
are turned for siesta against
the searing light, when the little birds
fold into the leaves of the naranja tree.
Slow down, I whisper to the bell
of my own constantly fluttering heart.

Luisa A. Igloria
03 05 2011

In response to today’s Morning Porch entry.

Series Navigation← Ghazal of Burgeoning ThingsPetition for Something Other than White →


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