Last night I woke again
from fitful sleep and heard
the wind’s high whistling—
white-throated, mouth pursed
on its way from one end of that
unimaginable island called infinity
to the other. Which is to say,
I’ve heard before this song
it sings, always an octave higher
than the notes I ping on the rim of my
dented cup. And if it is indeed infinity
that feeds this cycle of wailing, this
song conjuring elegy upon elegy,
where does it learn to make things up?
Night opens its caves of hungry cries
in search of any warm breast
to drink from— With effort I remind
myself I’m not being called by name.
In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.
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.