1. Waking

    Persistent voice, you tug at my ear
    in the dark– against a snowy field,
    the modulated click and swish
    like metal filings finding each
    other on a plate, their movements
    careening into some coherency
    or form. Beneath the sleeves
    of trees, wintering arms
    are dreaming of all kinds of things–
    sleet, raindrops; the blue-green
    sheen of eucalyptus leaves.
    A silken cord passed through
    a needle. The pungent spray
    from spiraled rinds I peel
    away from blood-oranges.

    ~ Luisa A. Igloria
    02 01 2011

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