1. Ghazal of the Open Water

    Bird silhouettes go up and down the laddered
    dogwood branches; in the ditch, a strip of open water.

    How do they thrive upon so little?
    Their shadows ripple like blooms upon the open water.

    Riding back from the city on a train, swaths
    of farmland, then the flash of open water.

    The days, so cold and riddled with damp rain.
    And still I’d rather have the clarity of open water.

    These months and years have strung their tears
    and prayers together: o grant us passage now to open water.

    – Luisa A. Igloria
    02 06 2011
    Sent via my Blackberry

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