Pale sunlight through the Norfolk pine at the window casts dappled shadows on the woven rug.
Red and Duffy spar in this arena, wisps of dog hair flying from their coats in the shafts of light.
Duffy yelps like a quacking duck, either from exertion or joy.
Red takes a fold of the carpet in his teeth and tugs.
They rest a moment, shoring up energy like warriors from an episode of Dragonball Z. And then the games begin again.
"This world is but a canvas to our imagination"
Writing Lostness
A selfish poet
Stevenson's French culture blog. No shit.
author + reader
. . . a meeting place where poetry chapbooks are celebrated and reviewed
Poetry, nature, books, & speculative philosophical musings
pages from an unbound book
breathing through our bones
fixing blind spots w/ cards
"Tarot helps you meet whatever comes in the best possible way."
Thoughts on writing and reading
the view from my precarious perch
Bespoke.Like you.
Snapshots of the mindful life.
Author of Black Jesus and Other Superheroes
Fun, Family, Friends & Food
