All Posts By: Byron McCoy
PERILOUS AFFAIR
Many sources of life-race, rush and high, by excess, he had burned into exhaust. Drink and night-highs: when there became more shadow than light, shame than levity, he gave them up without fight or desire to return. Lust divorced from love, physical from spirit: he acknowledged after-absence, confronted inner-void. Killing, war, power: in the […]
RAINBOW CLOUD
I saw a rainbow cloud this morning. I always think it is an angel, prism stripe across high cirrus wisp across from morning sun. It shone above, turning and angling, it seemed, as I went about my way. Focusing on work task and losing sight, I looked high again; and it was gone. […]
SOUND TO ELIJAH
Two hours in, finally, we are still. We sit and listen as a breeze blows soft through dry oak leaves around, whispered hush on moving wind. “What’s that?” my son asks, mesmerized and searching. “That’s the sound of the wind through the woods,” I answer, smiling and […]
GIFT IN FALL
“God apportions things. He is there on high, he sees us all, and he knows what he does in the midst of his great stars…Love each other well and always. There is nothing else but that in the world: love for each other.”—Victor Hugo, Les Miserables _____ It was day of kind that oft […]
DECIDED
It was a Sunday afternoon of unseasonable mid-November warmth. Amidst its moment, they walked together, not in autumn present but in dream of spring, as yellow leaves lined the way of streets and lanes as accent color in a grey-cast world, despite energy of warmth and light. “Do you believe in energies?” he […]
TO BE A BOY
I watch my son rake leaves. He sings as he goes oblivious to me on patio. He takes, kicks a ball, rakes more and keeps in song. He drinks a Coke his grandfather gave him, happy too for the treat. He walks back to the house, sees me in my chair. “Oh hi!” […]
OF A THOUGHT
“Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.”—T.S. Eliot _____ They shared the morning light together, each in read as yellowing of golden sun filtered through opened blinds in slant and cast through open room, nearing winter’s cool outside, lawn and lingering drape of leaves […]
BY RIVER’S BEND
After frost and grey of their day in Annie’s hometown, skies cleared and warmth restored. Through passage of the front, days and winds, autumn’s height in the hills and uplands was mostly passed but in the bottomlands beneath that held to river and its flats, the woods—different—were entering fullness of show and splendor. […]