Flower moon and fawns
When the flower moon turns its pale face to the evening dusk, the sun has barely set. Black-birds still holler and the scent of bird cherries fills the May twilight. […]
When the flower moon turns its pale face to the evening dusk, the sun has barely set. Black-birds still holler and the scent of bird cherries fills the May twilight. […]
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