​golden grasses 

sway in the marsh, 

swimming in the sea sky,

as gulls sweep their wings

low over the currents.

and I…I remember

your voice, 

sultry wind skimming

over the waves,

subtle as the blue haze

that wraps the bossom

of mountains.


i linger over phrases

that turn my heart, 

chains of verse

handed down across

the ocean of time,

like patchwork quilts.


and there are some things

that a woman just knows;

…when to let the sand 

drizzle from her hand

and when to press the clay…

into the image of love.

© M.G. Iannucci 2017

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