Akkie Bosje

A chilly Sunday morning. Early spring. The boat is out the boathouse. Prepared for things to come.

The feeling of ‘yes’

At the end of the avenue Where a squirrel stands on the chimney There is that wonderful place that is the heritage of…

Hair blowing in the wind. Cycling down from a bridge.

I am poetry lover. Been that as long as I can remember Small bits of texts from songs, that’s how it started.

The ‘crossover collective’ is a social machine.