R.M. Dolin, December 2024 The despondent night closes in ona bitter day that’s drained every fiber of emotion. A dark relentlessness devoidof place and context dares me to facethe reality of dying having never been loved.I picture you fresh in my mind,a lingering scent providing …
Read MoreLa Dolce Vida
R.M. Dolin, 2013 Chance is just a man whose circumstances tend beyond his control. Better to live than simply exist is his tag line. Better to risk everything than count pennies on a couch. He knows better; at least that’s what he tells himself at …
Read MoreDia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead)
R.M. Dolin, 2013 Marigolds in orange, departed hues of aging Bourbon; the blank calacas may mask the moment but cannot sequester the soul. Outward existence only. Vivir el momento, for soon it is gone. The finality of no, like aging memories does not soften with …
Read MoreFour to a Flush
R.M. Dolin, 2013 Everyone can be read but what makes a gambler great is pushing people with chips and conquering them with bluffs. Chasing cards is like hunting pheasants with a pistol; the likelihood events unfold as planned is improbable. With four to a flush, …
Read MoreViva la Revolution
R.M. Dolin, 2013 Don’t’ go slow. Not when whispers of war loom just beneath the silence of sunrise. Look to the distance for metrics. Look inside for direction.
Read MoreThe Fifth Estate
R.M. Dolin, 2013 You can’t count on others, but you can manipulate the outcome of events when you move in shadows and allow others to believe they’re in control.
Read MoreAgenda Seven
R.M. Dolin, 2013 The needs of the many go unheard even as the courageous mouse takes a stand against the descending hawk. The last great act of defiance, while romantically heroic, is a one-sided whisper fading into forgotten echoes. In a perfect world, the needs …
Read MoreWinter of Discontent
R.M. Dolin, 2013 Predawn shadows hang over the deserted field like an impatient Executioner who’s not necessarily eager for the task at hand, just anxious to be done. Wind dances along the stark stubble wondering where life and beauty have fled. Broken stalks, like pipes …
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