Perspective

And so was I also taught: the branch
where an invisible bird

surveys the landscape, the flat
horizon toward which,

supposedly, everything aspires.
All things defined,

reducible to a few
quick strokes to show again

the mechanism beneath,
the fatalism which determines

where they go. Here too
on the table:

nothing but a bowl,
a cup; from where the worm

looks up, the shadow and smudge,
the last figs given by the tree.

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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 (forthcoming, 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, hand-binds books, and listens to tango music.

1 Comment


  1. Leaves belong to summer as shells do to tortoises
    they are fate accompanying fruit to the table
    listing, matting, beckoning, warm simple glory
    Invariably winter will brown in their absence
    put butter in a hot skillet, observe the effect
    hjakajohnleake

    Reply

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