
the shore is sleeping
as the blanket dark tucks in
night sound til morning

I only have a portion of your whole life. But because I gorged, it is enough to sustain me for the remainder of my own. Your stories like ripened fruit that were picked just for me. In the garden, we grew together. They remain sweet to this very day. You taught me there’s no spoil in a deep-rooted yarn. A good yield will last forever when you remember where they’re planted. – Ash

When I write, I disappear for a while. But I always come back with a story to tell. – Ash

It’s not a blank page to me, it’s where the story begins. There’s an intimacy in that. Your work could have a million pages but you’ll never forget your first. – Ash

Caught the bus for my afternoon classes only to have them cancelled. What now? Oh, I know. Off to the university library I go. Where I spent almost all of my free time while on campus. It was a five-minute walk from my political science class and I used every second of it to get there. Soaking up the semester sun and atmosphere of an ordinary Wednesday late 1990’s.
Continue reading “Second Thoughts # 15 – ISBN Thinking About This Memory”

I forgot how much the open road opened my mind. So, no more pedalling around. Wait…actually, what I really mean is more pedalling around because the Bike Writer is wheelie getting ready to ride again after three long years. It’s time for a brand new bike, a whole new chapter, and a lot of new directions.
Spring 2024…

If I could survive solely on words, I would flourish. – Ash