A poem by Luisa A. Igloria with a photograph by Angela Sandelier

[Photo by Angela Sandelier/For The Independent News]




When I sit in the armchair

beneath the lamp’s small shade,

sometimes I feel how it might be


to almost float away — I listen

with half an ear to the talk

at the dining table,


the scrape of chairs in the TV

room above, the slam of a car door

in a neighboring driveway.


Outside, the night grows darker

and the moon prepares to rise.

What kind of sleep


does the body crave in winter?

We’ll all put on our heaviest

coats that fall


past our knees. We’ll wrap

our heads in scarves and cover

our ears. The banks


of the river are darker too

than plum, and all the boats

have come to rest at its hem. 

Igloria is the winner of the 2015 Resurgence Prize, the world’s first major award for ecopoetry. She is the author of Bright as Mirrors Left in the Grass, among many others. She teaches on the faculty of the Master of Fine Arts Creative Writing Program at Old Dominion University. Visit luisaigloria.com for more information.

Sandelier is a mom of two and an auditor and certified public accountant who lives in Red Mill and works in the Ghent section of Norfolk.

Used by permission. Copyrights belong to the authors.

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