All we are is dust in the wind
Kansas, Dust in the Wind

The scent of dense frankincense blows all
around us. Bells made of sand toll as we
live each day loudly, breathing in ancestors who are
waiting in the mist to guide us ashore. The sun is
constant, burning through us until we are dust.
But know this: When my time comes to leave in
shards, I will tell you that I love you from the
depths of the ocean while fighting the final wind.

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Nancy Byrne Iannucci is a librarian and poet who lives with her two cats: Nash and Emily Dickinson.  THRUSH Poetry Journal, Allegro Poetry Magazine, Eunoia, Maudlin House, San Pedro River Review, 34 Orchard, Bending Genres, and Typehouse, are some places you will find her. She is the author of four chapbooks, Temptation of Wood (Nixes Mate Review, 2018), Goblin Fruit (Impspired, 2021), Primitive Prayer (Plan B Press, fall 2022), and Hummingbirds and Cigarettes ( Bottlecap Press, 2024). Visit her at www.nancybyrneiannucci.com  Instagram: @nancybyrneiannucci