the past froths 

the curl of time’s wake

a fabric folded and pressed

starched crisp, lemon zest 

with a checkered cloth ease


broadcloth future

prepared for pleats

stretched over black leather

synced on rosed hips


and the coming undone

of that wet mounded earth

where bluets spill from the valley

scenting silence on the wind


© M.G. Iannucci 2017

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