Because of Global Warming

 

the Ladies of the Monday Afternoon Club
have started a clothing drive for the Buddha,
who continues his travels abroad in a world with more
and more unpredictable weather, garbed in the same outfit

he has worn for who knows how many centuries now:
thin pantaloons and a cotton robe of ochre, to be
in some minimum conformity while fulfilling the life
of an ascetic. He probably wears a men’s size 8 shoe,
as evidenced by the shape of his pada in stone:
high arches, broad heels, beautiful toes and ankles
(according to The 80 minor characteristics
of the Buddha in the Agamas). The good Ladies
are worried he will take cold walking through prairies
once gold with wheat and now festooned with ice,
along the coast where fine sand beaches are
unseasonably powdered with snow. His late mother
the queen would know the value of a nice care package;
after all, didn’t she suffer goring in the side
by a six-tusked elephant in order for him to be conceived?
No matter that our children are grown, no matter that they
are the Buddha, no matter that they brush the dust of home
off their sandals and leave to make their own way—we want
to do whatever we can for our young to be warm and safe
in this strange and sometimes inhospitable universe.

 

Luisa A. Igloria is the author of the eChapbook Bright as Mirrors Left in the Grass (2015), Ode to the Heart Smaller than a Pencil Eraser (selected by Mark Doty for the 2014 May Swenson Prize), Night Willow (2014), and other works. From 2009–2015 she directed the MFA Creative Writing Program at Old Dominion University. Since November 20, 2010, Luisa A. Igloria has been writing (at least) a poem a day. Her website is www.luisaigloria.com.

 

From the beginning, The Common has brought you transportive writing and exciting new voices. We are committed to supporting writers and maintaining free, unrestricted access to our website, but we can’t do it without you. Become an integral part of our global community of readers and writers by donating today. No amount is too small. Thank you!

Because of Global Warming

Related Posts

Map

DANIEL CARDEN NEMO
If I see the ocean / I think that’s where / my soul should be, / otherwise the sheet of its marble / would make no waves. // There are of course other blank slates / on my body such as the thoughts / and events ahead. // Along with the senses, / the seven continents describe / two movements every day

A sculpture bunny leaning against a book

Three Poems by Mary Angelino

MARY ANGELINO
The woman comes back each week / to look at me, to look / at regret—that motor stuck in the living / room wall, ropes tied / to each object, spooling everything in. She / comes back to watch / what leaving does. Today, her portrait / splinters—last month, it was only / askew

Aleksandar Hemon and Stefan Bindley-Taylor's headshot

January Poetry Feature #2: Words and Music(ians)

STEFAN BINDLEY-TAYLOR
I am sure I will never get a name for the thing, the memory of which still sits at a peculiar tilt in my chest, in a way that feels different than when I think of my birthday, or my father coming home. It is the feeling that reminds you that there is unconditional love in the world, and it is all yours if you want.