Author Archives

Mike Yost (Photographer/Writer)

I have a passion for words and photography (and craft beer . . . and weed). Just trying to be creative and experience the creativity of others before I'm kicked off this lonely planet. Death may nullify my body and brain, but (hopefully) not my art. I've been capturing snapshots of time and writing out the thoughts of fictional characters in my head since I was a kid. Maybe even younger! Not sure. It's hard to remember that far back. (I blame the weed.) I had the opportunity to pen a novel for grad school. Five characters. One narrative. Existential dread! You can purchase my first book, Remnants of Light, on Amazon here: http://amzn.com/B00MZBT15C It's available in paperback if you want to be retro and ebook if you want to be modern. Personally I think there should be a stone tablet option.

Dedicated to the Master Literary Prankster

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

“Say what, dear boy?” Mark replied, still staring out to sea.

“’Be good and you will be lonesome,’” I said.

Mark blinked his eyes and took a long pull on his cigar. Waves crashed against the side of the haul. The salty sea air almost flung the hat off his head.

“It’s April Fools’ Day, you know.” Mark set his feet on the railing. “As if being a fool only happens to a man once a year.”

Mark looked back out at sea, his gray curls shaking in the wind.  “As if being lonely only happens when you’re alone.”

“You . . . ” I asked pensively.  “You make it sound like every day is April Fools’ Day.”

“Because it is, dear boy,” Mark replied with a wide smile, now looking at me while tugging at his cigar, strings of smoke curling around his mustache.

Prose copyright Mike Yost 2017

Ancient Observer


This ancient observer
Mute and steadfast
Floating high above the horizon
Circling the firmament
For billions of years

Watching the dinosaurs fall silent beneath a cloud of ash
Watching civilizations spring out of open fields and spill across vast oceans
Watching the bones of those we love sink back into the Earth

Apathetic to our own toils
Indifferent to our own queries
To our universal questions of meaning and purpose
Pulled to the surface under a canopy of distant stars

Questions unanswered by this mute and steadfast witness
This silent companion of our home planet
Suspended in a peaceful tapestry
High above the horizon

Photograph and Prose copyright Mike Yost 2017