The end of February is always the worst, I find… Winter growing old, but spring not quite there yet.
Another mental health piece if you will. Or…just a thing about the joy to be found in not doing anything.
Like the topic says, musings on stories and fairy tales.
On the power of small things.
On a certain color.
A little silly, a little playful, expressing love for food.
A poem reflecting on the popular (and world famous) literature genre of my home country.