The French lilac, backlit by the sun, shimmers like a bright green sail against the still-open woods. A field sparrow’s rising trill.


This will be the last new update until May 17th; I’m off to the U.K. to give a poetry reading and visit friends.


  1. Vocalise

    We found the feathered body
    beneath the window, red claws
    stiffened into lower case C’s.


    Whose voice is that then,
    launching its frisson of a rising trill
    across the field?


    So little time: I clasp
    the little tremor in my throat,
    your hand under the table.


    We pass the cup’s
    clear lake of green
    tea between us.


    The French lilac answers,
    its bright shimmer
    backlit by the sun.

    ~ Luisa A. Igloria
    04 30 2011

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