Water in November
When dawn is breaking, through November mist the trees are merely shadows of a summer passed and when I brush against their branches drops of water trickle down my back. […]
When dawn is breaking, through November mist the trees are merely shadows of a summer passed and when I brush against their branches drops of water trickle down my back. […]
There is nothing quite as dark as shadows within shadows or lies we’ve spun on lies to veil veracity or slay the facts. There is nothing quite as dark as […]
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