Somewhere in the world, a body goes
through the same motions I make:
but the water I cup in my hands
when I turn on the tap
never washes over her hands, never
touches the skin of his face. The crust
of toast I put in my mouth never grazes
the bridge of her teeth, never tumbles
down the dry well of his throat. I slide
my feet into their two leather coffins,
my arms into bright cotton casings;
but somewhere in the world, the cold
wraps around her throat, the rain
lashes his limbs. How can the earth
have so many rooms and so little
space? Outside our windows,
gulls lift their dusty wings; their
shadows skim across our walls.
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 former US Poet Laureate 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.