My cocoon
This night is not a rose but sea and thorns, a gilded mirror, chandeliers and gneis, the end and new beginnings, moss and stones a story and a dream. This […]
This night is not a rose but sea and thorns, a gilded mirror, chandeliers and gneis, the end and new beginnings, moss and stones a story and a dream. This […]
Still skeletal the gnarly canopy of this old man oak, with sap as thick as buttermilk, leans against despair of time; when suddenly the daring thrill of blackbirds challenge thaw […]
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