Noble Mien

mica drifts,

lazy current 

sunbeam stream,

coming to rest

on a toe,

balanced.

.

downstream,

my hands wring

the knots

from each other, 

grasping in unison

the enormity

of the miniscule,

the way keratin scales 

transform 

into wings.

.

i plunge 

my splayed fingers

into the silt sands

seeking

the singular 

obtrusion –

as a heart 

learning to love,

explores

its own depth.

.

fruit of the same vine,

you and i,

ripe and blushed

a steady touch – 

these hands.

.

Photo: Fruit of Nightshade from the edges of my garden

© M.G. Iannucci 2017

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