Downfall
The sky was different the day the birdsong ceased, (as if they knew) it carried in itself a tepid hue of sick blancmange, That day my skin was drizzle-glazed but […]
The sky was different the day the birdsong ceased, (as if they knew) it carried in itself a tepid hue of sick blancmange, That day my skin was drizzle-glazed but […]
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