Bread and rice
Sylla-bled each word,each sense,each scent, the parting sentence“au revoir, in Paris mon amour”the parrot says,again, again. She recallshis uniformand paddy fields, the river deltahis bicycle, both bread and rice. Waiting, […]
Sylla-bled each word,each sense,each scent, the parting sentence“au revoir, in Paris mon amour”the parrot says,again, again. She recallshis uniformand paddy fields, the river deltahis bicycle, both bread and rice. Waiting, […]
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