On Pouring My Heart Out
Most times I shroud my poems in mystery or hide behind the metaphor, and leave the “about” of the poem for the reader to interpret as they wish. Not this time, ...
Most times I shroud my poems in mystery or hide behind the metaphor, and leave the “about” of the poem for the reader to interpret as they wish. Not this time, ...
It’s spring, a season of expectations and the morning smells fresh. Light conquers as the cold, dark and long Nordic winter finally relents. Even though the sur...