Soil
To mulch my limbs one day have withered underfoot To soil and there my soul, severed, becomes a thousand daisies, eyes of lawn, a smile for children’s feet. – […]
To mulch my limbs one day have withered underfoot To soil and there my soul, severed, becomes a thousand daisies, eyes of lawn, a smile for children’s feet. – […]
some days the caring enormity of our togetherness seems limited and in perplexity, I’m silent picking petals of imaginary daisies building infinite castles to fill me with your broken galaxies […]
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