Category: Poetry

loving a folly much more  than the true ruined buildings.  understanding the...

I heard the sunset drop its glass on hostel stairs and watched pigeons carve elegies in air. A...

Another night of  what they call the deep, slow-wave level of sleep, teeming with weird...

I handcrafted words without knowing them, slow words, slowing me down, until they spoke back and...

    You can light a lamp in the cottage, sweep the floor, brew tea,   waiting...

    1. Morning. Stillness. Silence. Silence – and then footsteps. There’s a...