The neighbour came to the door again, beer in hand to chat and ask to use the green bin. He had been chopping back a tree that was getting in the way of his garage.
poetry
Do you feel compelled to write about… something? Are you an artist who can write about the motivation and process for a piece of your work? Are you moved by the sights and sounds of nature and want to put a picture into words?
You should. We are all artists. Can Slowist.org help share your voice?
The third and final piece in this series of mindful poems from Debbie Lewis – ‘Stop’.
Six months ago, I was sat in my bedroom at my University in a deep depression. However, this felt completely different than the suffocating feeling I’d ever felt before, it felt peaceful. Like I was one with the universe, reality felt so slow. So, while blasting ‘K.’ By Cigarettes After Sex’, tears streaming down my face, I wrote the following…
The second in a series of three mindful poems from Debbie Lewis. More of the wonderful observation that we saw in ‘Down by the water’.