At the harbor front, thick roll of banked clouds; beyond, deeper than velvet, the theatre curtains of night. Across the park, a row of street lamps comes on. Their light is butter-yellow, their light is flicker-dim. A half hour of pelting rain, then finally the boom of fireworks above the river. Silver and gold, blue and lilac and gold. They burst into tendrils like spider plants in the air. Their force is tender, and my chest is a cage of hollow echoes, small winged creatures riding blind and bumping against the walls. Gone the sheer white morning, sky thin enough for the sun’s milk to shine through. Everyone turns away after the last flares flicker and wane. We all want something stronger to tear through the murk and silence, we want to be the hawk that sails clear across the canvas, talon widening the rip from one edge of this world to the other.


In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

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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.

2 Replies to “Talon”

    1. Hello Dale… Hope you had a good holiday weekend. We had a thunderstorm earlier this evening, which threatened to put a damper on the fireworks. But they put them on anyway, about an hour earlier than scheduled, as there was more rain tonight. As for the end of the poem…for some reason I’ve been thinking of blazoned colors lately… craving the brightness of orange, vermillion, gold.

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