Way station

In some games it’s all downhill:
momentum gained from the speed of
careening closer to the ravine.

Wind is an accessory, whipping
your scarf into an aerodynamic
arrow; or, the lift you ride

to sail across the chasm. Rocks
litter the craggy landscape. Silver birch
and fir, the only things that gesture

upward. You can’t remember how many nights
or days or cycles you’ve picked yourself up
from countless falls. The moon’s a pendant,

festooned on the lower registers.
Its glow is soft, like kindness; like a face
you once saw in a window, looking as you passed.

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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