email: daigle@michaelstephendaigle.com
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DRAGONY RISING: The Best Frank Nagler Mystery yet. What do you do when someone wants to destroy your city?
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The Red Hand: “A winning origin story for one of modern fiction’s expertly drawn detectives.” — Kirkus Reviews https://www.amazon.com/Michael-Stephen-Daigle/e/B00P5WBOQC
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Tag Archives: love
Drift
Continents drift. Clouds drift. Wood drifts on water. Daffodils drift on swirling pools, tossed by your hand from the dock, yellow eyes turning. We drift. Chasms open, hearts open and close. Each grinding leaves dust; the closing not quite complete. … Continue reading
The last butterfly and the full moon
It is the brown season. Stalks of lilies hard, orange flowers long fallen; Cold shells where purple flowers dusted your yellow wings as you probed for nectar, gladly given. The angled sun brings light but not heat. These thoughts are sterile … Continue reading
A soldier’s letter home
I smiled in my dream as I felt your tongue in my ear and awoke to find you naked on the bed, right arm propping up your head as your blonde hair draped across your face. I reached over and … Continue reading
Voyager
This is why we love. To cast the sounds and breath of us afar, these parts of us we barely know; these gadgets that spring from our creation, set free by some sneak attack of you; exploring, reaching, searching, homing … Continue reading
When all the world is liquid — with sound
https://soundcloud.com/diane-havens/when-all-the-world-is-liquid When all the world was stone, we clung together on solid cliffs, anchored in hearts, feelings like isthmuses and islands; places to dance. When all the world was air, the sound and scent of you floated past walls and … Continue reading
The season forgives
It is the smallest things that bring redemption. The tiny blue flowers have pushed through the cold soil to grab the gleam of sunlight, a lure of warmth that turns them toward life; they have been here before, one, then … Continue reading
I’m sorry you hate me
I’m sorry that you hate me. It’s not that you’d admit you hate me, but you do. You scowl at me when I serve your coffee a moment too late because your time is more important than mine. Or don’t … Continue reading →
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