Channel Markers

time the slip jig of my rhyme obelisk to pinch the sky cage of steel or the trap of ways wet colliding in the race draw the courage to thread the strait curled in the fingers of a moment’s fate for you cannot hope to make your way charting a course by the churning wake […]

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The Topography of Clouds

a peace perceived from the lee, in the lucid stream of day, the rolling caress of emptiness, where words simply fade away. . © M.G. Iannucci 2018 Photo: (mine) Above the clouds over Lake Michigan.

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