All Posts By: Byron McCoy

               Fire of evening twilight took as immolation of the heavens, descent of the sun fading ember flame as in rose-cast light of east a blue moon rose.                He turned south on a country road, dust rising in wake of the end-August dry, mornings of heavy dew that blanketed the fields and settled the […]

(a continuation to “All There Is”) _____                “To read and write and love well the one you do…I meant that as a good beginning,” James told.  “As ideal, it’s a beautiful start.  I write better than I speak, and it takes time for me to make sense of what I wish to say.                […]

(a continuation to “All There Is”) _____                They lain together in the after, heart to heart, eye to eye, silent save for easy breaths, immersed in moment and presence of simply being.  After, they held near in presence and drifted in minds as they remained in repose reading by each other’s side.  Annie returned […]

               “Lust and learning…That’s really all there is, isn’t it?”—John Williams, Stoner _____                Annie’s day was through and finished and wishing mindful escape, she rested, leaving blouse and pants in throw over back of bedroom chair.  Liberated, she returned to a book, and began to read, resting in spread over bed.                 Annie lain […]

               “A faint glow streamed from behind the building into the sky, the reflection of thousands of unknown lights, the electric breath of the city.  She wanted to rest.  To rest, she thought, and to find enjoyment somewhere.                Her work was all she had wanted.  But there were times, like tonight, when she felt […]

               “In creating, we make our own concrete objects and events out of abstractions; we bring the abstraction down and back to its specific meaning, to the concrete; but the abstraction has helped us to make the kind of concrete we want the concrete to be.  It has helped us to create—to reshape the world […]