My grandmother’s plates
In my grandmother’s room always lingered a fragrance I only learned late was from turpentine and linseed oil but the flowers she crafted on platters and bowl I noticed… I […]
Monthly Archives: January 2019
Ox weeks
This weekend we worked in the garden burning the branches that had been building over the past few years. A rare sunshine glanced through the trees and a scent of […]
A Monday in June
It was never how the sea bit at my ankles or how the kelp of its fingers were trying vain pulling me down that made me see how like angels […]
Midnight walking
Her path across the garden is from moonlight moth-winged; barefoot-firm she’s neither fragile nor she’s fleeing, she’s only searching luminescence for her flaming flesh. She knows his scent of cinnamon […]
To my warden
Not even sunshine warms me quite like you and evening rain can never raise my yearn as softness of your raging lips that burns with spice of peppermint in purple […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 