All Posts By: Byron McCoy

               Like the dawn and light in sky, Anna woke slowly in her rise.  In move and pass before kitchen’s window showing amber light, he loved and adored the natural-pure of her morning way: face unmade, freckle-pattern of skin, light, over brow and cheeks and bridge of nose; flat of her waking eyes like sky, […]

               Anna gazed on perfect sky of blue and clouds that painted dreams.  Gone was the rain, gone was the gray, returned was warmth and light; and of the spirit she returned in own to beckon of farm home; to quiet nights and equal dawns, serenity of place.                 She felt the pang of heart-desire, […]

               Sensing high and near to free, she released from rhythm-hold; hands again to table behind, his hold and guide and help of her low.  Lowered, settled, she lain in wide-armed broad of cross as he held to her hips and drove her body in table’s spread; rise of her sounds, rise of her sense […]

               Anna sat in wait at table’s edge; yellow light of morning sun in window flooding spill in wash of the green-walled room.  Her open body, shoulder’s draw and rest on bracing arms, open palmed and fingers back in face and point.                 His find of her there, beauty and free, only cover—her high crossed […]

               Anna woke to gray of high-rise view, city under cloud; gray veil of mist and fog amongst gray rise of city’s walls—dark shadows of window glass—blending, obscuring, melding into cloud over black and sheen of city streets.                From bed she rose and moved to stand by window’s view absorbing all the scene; gray […]