All Posts By: Byron McCoy

        He sat in a blind in overlook and cover of worked field, disked and planted to wheat in long, odd shape made in frame of wooded waterways that were its bounds.  Across the dry, earth-turned clouds, gossamer strands of fine spun webs danced in wind and western sun.  Sun still high, day still full, […]

         He wondered if she tired of waiting, delaying what she knew her fate and inevitable destiny; and so he asked.         Before the flame in whitewashed heart, form and column made of brick, antlered skull upon the hearth in symbol-sign of crooked way, he asked, “Are you ready to make […]