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December 1, 2022


The last of the wildflowers

stand like knights in a moat

on my woodstove,

cut by the sword

of a gentle flame

in a green grove.

When are they going

to harvest the corn?

The sun is so warm

he’s deceitful.

The horse sways its tail

at the remaining flies,

the lies autumn makes.

© the author

by Nancy Byrne Iannucci

Nancy Byrne Iannucci is a Long Island, New York native who currently lives in Troy, NY with her two cats: Nash and Emily Dickinson. Her poems have appeared in 34 Orchard, Defenestration, Hobo Camp Review, Bending Genres, The Mantle, Typehouse Literary Magazine, Bluebird Word, and Glass: a Poetry Journal. She is the author of three chapbooks, Temptation of Wood (Nixes Mate Review, 2018), Goblin Fruit (Impspired, 2021), and Primitive Prayer (Plan B Press, fall 2022); she is also a teacher, and woodland roamer. Visit her at  Instagram: @nancybyrneiannucci

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