Compassion is closed at night.
Compassion is warmth of torn book pages slowly fed to hungry flames, by a beggar’s hands. Compassion is sound of a lonely coin at the bottom of a tin cup. […]
Compassion is warmth of torn book pages slowly fed to hungry flames, by a beggar’s hands. Compassion is sound of a lonely coin at the bottom of a tin cup. […]
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