Lasagna and blackthorn
One day a year ago we came home with a crockpot, and since it has renewed our cooking. Maybe it has came with age, but I’ve grown to prefer slow […]
One day a year ago we came home with a crockpot, and since it has renewed our cooking. Maybe it has came with age, but I’ve grown to prefer slow […]
Before we damned asbestos, she was a loyal citizen her lion roar was smoke and mirrors and electro-shock therapy was a simple cure for her less than Vogue appearance. Simply […]
In spring the aged librarian sees in books the bloom; that from the words a growth of pansies and peonies, of columbine and blue forget-me-nots, and there are daisies, daffodils […]
Does it matter afterwards that objects in mirror are closer than they appear? We drove and never cared. When they came, they sneaked upon us from behind, and left us […]
Underneath my fingernails a promise caught: for saplings,seeds and bulbs for growths and green for spring for what I dug in fall: A growth from soil (decay and death) form […]
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