Hunter
I wander slowly on the meadow-grass its straws bejeweled in a smell of dawn on undulating hillocks smooth as glass. I tiptoe softly, fingertips, cross perfect lawns still soft with […]
I wander slowly on the meadow-grass its straws bejeweled in a smell of dawn on undulating hillocks smooth as glass. I tiptoe softly, fingertips, cross perfect lawns still soft with […]
Writing about living in two places (and times)
Poems & Stories from The Author Stew
practising for a whole life
haikai poetry matters
Running in the slow lane
The view from here ... Or here!
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
chronicling my quarter life crisis