Water trapped in bogs
Her sentences where rivers once, meandering through marshlands, building into lakes and rushing rapids, heading for the sea. “Why was I never told, that mother’s dead?” She’s angry once again, […]
Her sentences where rivers once, meandering through marshlands, building into lakes and rushing rapids, heading for the sea. “Why was I never told, that mother’s dead?” She’s angry once again, […]
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