The wrecking of Tom
“Lorna, we need firewood tonight, go gathering for driftwood, girl.” Lorna, faces her father, fists clenched. “I have this washing first, the calico you brought last week has to be […]
Monthly Archives: November 2015
Why still ambiguous?
As branches bends for desert winds, close to breaking, and the weight of what I’ve said is slightly less than my mute retort inside. They send me feathers white of […]
Water trapped in bogs
Her sentences where rivers once, meandering through marshlands, building into lakes and rushing rapids, heading for the sea. “Why was I never told, that mother’s dead?” She’s angry once again, […]
In praise of a thieving magpie
He stole the cheese to free the birds the four and twenty waiting Thieving magpie makes their day see prisoners escaping. The king was snoring in his bed, his breakfast […]
How to face the wind
I still recall that December night, down by the pier: your body pressed; a weight against my boyish chest. Harbor waves were pounding granite piers your leg a nestling seeking […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 