Jazz with the moss
Where trees jazz with wind so gently to magic of moss at summernight tarn; there I meet you at midnight and run my hands through gold of your hair. Come […]
Monthly Archives: November 2017
Down at the club
Down at the club the drums beat jazz ba-bam ba-bam-bam-boo to taps of of hundred feet and humming sax: while with a tearful wail the trumpet hails our night of […]
Thanksgiving nausea
He could hear his mother downstairs, just like always. Thanksgiving, pie and family, it made him nauseous. Horace knew the time had come; even dressed in bulky jackets change was […]
Cormorant
My shadow is a cormorant, waterlogged and scarecrow cross, black flags from scent of fish. The bird’s a presence ominous and waiting, waving from the corner of your eye. The […]
Four pebbles
– I – Wisdom is a guiding cairn when rocks come together — why don’t we? – II – I’m rock, resting when I’m at my lowest. – III – […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 