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river in November light between bare woods and mountain
Via Negativa

Via Negativa

Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.

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Author: Luisa A. Igloria

Poet Luisa A. Igloria (website) is the 2023 Immigrant Writing Series prize winner for Caulbearer: Poems (Black Lawrence Press, 2024), and Co-Winner of the 2019 Crab Orchard Open Competition in Poetry for Maps for Migrants and Ghosts (Southern Illinois University Press, September 2020). She was appointed Poet Laureate of the Commonwealth of Virginia for 2020-22, and in 2021 received 1 of 23 Poet Laureate Fellowships from the Academy of American Poets and the Mellon Foundation. She 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; she also teaches classes at The Muse Writers' Center in Norfolk. 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.
Posted on July 12, 2026June 29, 2026 by Luisa A. Igloria

Summer Tankas / 12

river in November light between bare woods and mountain
And yet, the terrible
pulse of the heart keeps arming
and disarming. How
is it not louder than owls
in the trees, hooting all night?
Posted on July 11, 2026June 29, 2026 by Luisa A. Igloria

Summer Tankas / 11

river in November light between bare woods and mountain
In the ocean’s depths
where light seems of hammered iron,
we have no idea
of what it means to have lived
longer than consciousness itself.
Posted on July 10, 2026June 29, 2026 by Luisa A. Igloria

Summer Tankas / 10

river in November light between bare woods and mountain
I cannot predict
the end of any story.
I can’t make it up
all the time. But I admire
how art is made from gunpowder.
Posted on July 9, 2026June 29, 2026 by Luisa A. Igloria

Summer Tankas / 9

river in November light between bare woods and mountain
Though most of my teeth 
are still my own, I can’t whistle.
Our small appliances
sing little tunes when they start
or stop. They even harmonize.

Posted on July 8, 2026June 29, 2026 by Luisa A. Igloria

Summer Tankas / 8

river in November light between bare woods and mountain
Tiny glass paperweight
rinsed of the sea’s cloudy tint—
I crave blue and purple,
the crooked sweetness of fruit
not quite ripe nor fully bitter.
Posted on July 7, 2026June 29, 2026 by Luisa A. Igloria

Summer Tankas / 7

river in November light between bare woods and mountain
What becomes of us
when the hours all run out?
I want to look back
and not harden into salt.
Not be embodied in grief.

Posted on July 6, 2026June 29, 2026 by Luisa A. Igloria

Summer Tankas / 6

river in November light between bare woods and mountain

All out of season—
Early crepe myrtle showers.
Rain few and far between.
A wave machine drives water
into a pool: no exit.
Posted on July 5, 2026June 29, 2026 by Luisa A. Igloria

Summer Tankas / 5

river in November light between bare woods and mountain
I will live alone
at some point—circled by grass
and trees, hum of bees.
I can only hope for such
grace, if not absolution.
Posted on July 4, 2026June 29, 2026 by Luisa A. Igloria

Summer Tankas / 4

river in November light between bare woods and mountain
Some days I am lint
stuck to every coat pocket.
Some days I find change
to feed the laundry machine,
when I had no higher ambition.
Posted on July 3, 2026June 29, 2026 by Luisa A. Igloria

Summer Tankas / 3

river in November light between bare woods and mountain
What word lives inside
me that will last all season?
The birds say listen.
I haven’t learned to be brave,
to trust the undulations.

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How can we live without the unknown before us?
—Rene Char

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About

Via Negativa is a unique experiment in daily, poetic conversation with the living and the dead. Dave Bonta founded the site in 2003 and Luisa A. Igloria joined in 2010. Guest authors contribute as well. Dave writes daily erasure poems to discover the poetry hidden in the Diary of Samuel Pepys. Luisa has been writing and posting a poem a day since November 2010, often in response to Dave’s entries at The Morning Porch. Collections of poems first published at Via Negativa include Luisa’s The Buddha Wonders if She is Having a Mid-Life Crisis and Ode to the Heart Smaller than a Pencil Eraser, and Dave’s Ice Mountain and Breakdown: Banjo Poems. Read more…

Recent Posts

  • Over rage November 7, 2026
  • Surprise ending November 7, 2026
  • Watch Your Step November 7, 2026
  • What’s Visible November 6, 2026
  • Deferred November 5, 2026
  • Mouthy November 5, 2026
  • In the mist November 5, 2026
  • From Inside of You November 5, 2026
  • I follow whatever I see / of myself in sleep— * November 4, 2026
  • Peripatetic November 4, 2026

Series

  • Poetry Blog Digest
  • Pandemic Year: a haibun video log
  • Poetry from the Other Americas: a group translation project
  • Une Semaine de Bonté: poems in response to collages by Max Ernst
  • Laura Kaminski's Laundry Poems
  • Louise Labé: translations and responses by Jean Morris
  • Chance: A Poetic Tarot by Luisa Igloria
  • Pepys Diary erasure project
  • Manual: absurd answers to simple questions
  • Poetics and technology (as seen by a bunch of bloggers)
  • Ridge and Valley: an exchange of poems with Todd Davis
  • The Temptations of Solitude: poems in response to paintings by Clive Hicks-Jenkins
  • Wildflower poems: poems in response to macro photos by Jennifer Schlick
  • Honduran poetry: new translations
2019 Poetry Blogging Network
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