The house creates rain:

isn’t that the only explanation possible

for all the times someone wept, thereby
setting off a cascade of weeping? We rowed

from room to room, each in our own
teetering gondola, burnished

but breakable as glass. This is the way
the self becomes tired of weaving

bridge after bridge of sighs.
It wants to climb onto a dock

and slip into a crowd of revelers—
they’ll bear her away, dizzy

and uncertain, stumbling
into the plaza’s yellow light;

and all those wings,
reeling overhead.


In response to Via Negativa: Pear tree house.

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.

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