Dickinson, Texas
Yellow light seeps through the clouds
pretending the storm has passed.
I am drawn to this falsehood like matches to
the abrasive box-end, a swatter to the fly.
Old women wait in the creeping water,
confidence draining with every risen
inch, their ears straining to believe.
As hill meets dusk and torn sky,
where heroes reveal their shared voice,
fear’s black finger scratches the roof.
“Dickinson, Texas” first appeared in Ristau: A Journal of Being in January 2019. Many thanks to editor Bob Penick for taking this piece.
O at the Edges 
And if you like rural Texas and the vanishing characters of the Llano Estacado, look for George Perreault’s “Bodark County”, a delightful and intriguing read.
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I need to pick up a copy. Yours is the second recommendation I’ve received!
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“Yellow light seeps through the clouds
pretending the storm has passed”
That’s a powerful start of this piece!
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Thank you!
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“like matches to the abrasive box-end”…superb. Great tension and suspense in this.
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Thanks, Craig!
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Simply incredible Robert!
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Thanks very much!
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Wow this is a beautiful write keep up the great work. Anita
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Thanks very much, Anita.
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Thanks also for stopping by my page god bless
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It was my pleasure!
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