you wander through my gaze

sundries sundried by the blue haze

of vagaries left by the roadside

ditched where you stride

surfed dirt ten-gallon legs

bowed to the promise of rain

seeping through the picket slats

where barbwire complains

of infinite space confined

within these eyes

absent of the mark of time


© M.G. Iannucci 2018

My grandmother once asked me, “Do you like people tellin’ ya what to do?” Before I had time to reply she said, “Say no.” Wisdom revealed amidst the surreal.

11 thoughts on “Irony

      1. That’s such a wonderful way to frame the crux of writing Maria. The crafting and the concurrent freedom of expression. Just right.

        And from my layman’s perspective, I’d say you’ve got it totally sorted.

        You never disappoint your readers!

        I just need to follow your lead!!

        Liked by 1 person

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