Destined On their last holiday, they sat on a reed mat laid with local delicacies: a bowl of somtam, a plate of tilapia, cups of khaw, mud-dark, fish-pickle sauce, and a basket of freshly-picked greens from his auntie’s garden. This is how we roll in the province, no need for table or chairs. No need … Continue reading Two poems by Romalyn Ante
