All Posts By: Byron McCoy
OPEN PAGE
Black leather book with gold leafed pages and print on face and spine of same, though not a Bible, she knew it was religious. He read it every day to start his mornings, bookmark’s move one page to the next in procession of the year while many others stood in places of its […]
ON SMALLTOWN SQUARE
Last night, I went to the fair on our small town square. It was after work. I showered and went, relieving my mom who came down from the city to help with the boys while Audrey and Bridgette are at volleyball and I am in the fields. It was more special […]
SUMMER STORIES
They finished the field, and he went home. He found himself alone and made something of the time. He sat on the porch as sun fell low smoking small cigar—Arturo Fuente, Hemingway Short Story; life was a never-end of short stories lived, written, and smoked. He smoked […]
BURGUNDY AND BROME
He dreamt her in burgundy and brome again. Highlights of her hair as rays of evening sun, lovely and long and falling from shadow of roots—like shadow of cloud—to touch of bed and spread of brome; white painted toes of her bare and crossed feet in sit and gazing on the sun. […]