Keep talking. That way I might figure out how to cross the room. I’m barefoot, the wood is cool, I’m trusting: I don’t believe this is a labyrinth, or that there is a pit crawling with spiders somewhere in the darkness. In every silence is a hidden delirium; in every well, the imprint of a disappeared moon. I know there are trees because their branches crackle; and how else could the scent of jasmine climb the walls if not for their help? An ember has been known to come to life in the grate, even if the stones have learned to be sufficient. From there, I promise to write you letters: every day, something new, like an instrument or a piece of fruit.
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.