Poetry by Nancy Byrne Iannucci
I run my fingers through their hair and inhale, tilting slender tillers.
Our golden strands move together
when the winds speak to us – I understand their talk like the Lakota,
Shinnecock, and Cherokee, but I’m none of them.
I’m a white woman with a woodland spirit on the prairie.
I ride foxes and coyotes like stallions.
I high-five queen Anne’s lace cheering from the sidelines.
I’m Stands with a Fist when the wolves come howling.
I heal myself with witch hazel, lavender, and hawthorn.
I carry wood to the firepit where my ancestors perished.
I paint my face with their ashes and sing their songs.
The trees breeze when I dance until their leaves are gone,
and soon, I will molder, too, for I am one with the earth, bound to none.
Nancy Byrne Iannucci is a widely published poet and the author of two chapbooks, Temptation of Wood (Nixes Mate Review, 2018), and Goblin Fruit (Impspired, 2021); she is also a teacher and woodland roamer. Nancy can be found at www.nancybyrneiannucci.com.
