Homesick
A lyrical monologue on the ache of placelessness, and the body as both refuge and exile.
“I have never belonged,
not to a place, not to a person.
I am a wandering house of bones,
a heart with no anchor.”
(Full text available upon request or in PDF appendix.)
Letters to Loved Ones
A quiet meditation written like a letter never sent — part observation, part offering — reflecting on grief, longing, and the intimate ways we witness the world in someone else’s absence.
“I sit curled up in a woollen blanket at home,
windows wide open despite the chill,
and a warm cup of tea cradled in my hands.
Somewhere nearby, the adolescent barred owl sits in her silence.
She rests, intuitively knowing this wet will pass in time.
Patience comes with practice.”
(Full text available upon request or in PDF appendix.)