photo albums turned to dust – for dVerse
disaster smells like ash as summer-heat becoming flames in clouds above I see the images of paths I’ll never walk of dying woods, unwritten books of photo albums turned to […]
Monthly Archives: August 2014
Carpe Diem Haiku – Forrest
whisper of leaves – clumsy pine-marten sees squirrel’s flight forest snag – trace of fire feeds wolf lichen under gallows’ tree – the moss-pillow’s softness stings my skin The forest […]
Pedro’s addiction – For Friday Fictioneers
Pedro was just born in the body of a man. At his father’s wish he labored at the farm. He hated growing muscles, He hated bristles on his chin. He […]
time reversal
in tic-toc-tic-toc-tic-toc the metronome measures our infinity tic-toc-tic-toc so carefully but still in your mica eyes I see the snarling dog with yellow teeth reflected and I humbly ask for […]
Carpe Diem Haiku – summer smells
summer night – honeysuckle and wine together furnace heat anticipate the afternoon petrichor ripe tomatoes warm against your lips with basil leaves Linked to Carpe Diem
Björn Rudbergs writings 