my last full dark in Belfast I try to remember the name of every building I’ve never entered every brick I’ve touched screams Related articles Day 25 and Zen and the art of writing(writingourwayhome.com) Letters in the Wind: A…
Tag: Belfast
Mindful Writing Challenge 12
pressure on the edges of my skin, inside the same head that doesn’t hear the helicopter hum unless I ask it a crash in the distance a single star bursting clouds above with pin point light ____________at this distance these…
Sunday Small Stone
that golden sun rounds green edge of Buckfast bottle and shines through where tonic wine should slosh in concrete gutter without grass
Redrafting (for) Your Life
Julianna Baggott has written a post applying the idea of editing to life. She wonders if writers who dislike edits to their work also avoid change in their lives. For me, change has rarely been a series of edits. What…
What a Difference a Day Makes
Yesterday on my run, I saw a heron on a snag. At the sound of overexcited dogs running up the path above the river, it spread its wings but did not flee. Today on my run, I saw a pigeon…