Tag Archives: Mike Dillon

Noonday Field

A stone’s modest shadow cast upon stubby grass and dirt keeps the same silence as the shadow you found in the fold of your napkin at last night’s raucous banquet. It’s there for you alone, once more— earth’s dark door … Continue reading

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Boyhood Island

Dusk darkens the distant hills and serenity of water beyond the lip-soft waves. No bridge of iron or land bridge reaches this place where you’ve beached your skiff. You will lie down and awake in safety. That was not the … Continue reading

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Her, Him

All ten fingers are fluent but this morning she employs the right index finger only. Slowly, she plunks the piano with the minor-key deliberation of a black horse hauling a casket-bearing caisson. Thirty-five years of marriage and never was there … Continue reading

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