the phone call comes, the morning’s skin is pierced,
the holiday ruined before it even begins. Suddenly
the months of the years rearrange themselves. Suddenly
routine surrenders and substitutes must be found.
Suddenly you clutch at straws so hard you make each
one another kind of breaking. Suddenly the surf pounds
in your ear and nothing you say or do can console the one
who’s come in, tired from swimming, from walking. Suddenly
it’s evening, filled with the wings of moths that converge
in rooms where we’ve covered the furniture with drop cloths.
Suddenly the night unreels and the halls lead us round
and round these rooms that we thought were locked
but which give at the push of a fingertip. Suddenly a bird
calls out and a mirror drops from its frame. Suddenly
a shadow melts in the shape of a cage and the wall
is lit as if from within. Suddenly it’s raining.
And just like that, suddenly it isn’t.


In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

Series Navigation← Uncle Frank warned my fatherWhat can you hear in this downpour? →

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.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.