Three poems by Aabid Shivji, each taking the road as its setting. Endings, gear changes, and a last parking spot become ways of sitting with death and what comes before it.
     Aabid: It’s Tuesday… Abbi: I can’t wait to be out on the trail again!  …
The end of the road is a perilous place The end still hasn’t come and the road gloats in my…
There’s a really curious, almost fantastical quality to how we perceive death On the one hand, there’s a fear that…
Thoughtful reads. Writing prompts. New pieces.
It just might become your favorite email in your inbox, insha'Allah.
