A pale face
There is no memory quite as clear as the pale face swallowed by fog. Apple bloom crushed on wet pavement. An effort to write an imagist poem inspired by the […]
There is no memory quite as clear as the pale face swallowed by fog. Apple bloom crushed on wet pavement. An effort to write an imagist poem inspired by the […]
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