Tournesol
I turn my face to meet the sun but bows to hide from wind and rain, I’m born in soil and strong I stretch my supple stem towards the sky […]
Monthly Archives: February 2020
In a Parisian café, after and before.
I sit alone stirring my coffee turning cold. There is no reason to stir, I always drink my coffee black but the sound of the spoon hitting the porcelain masks […]
Library 2.0
The library is covered, floor to ceiling, with government-issued brand- new sixty-inch plasmoid screens blaring infotainment as fresh barista- librarians serve coffee to the glass- eyed teenage girls sitting glued […]
After fire
After fire, the crosses, gowns, and graveyards bones and birch-trees noses, shackles, ropes lay ashen pyre-cold and we are left as ash to fertilize the flowerbeds ash to choke on […]
Winter loss
When only dark- ness tells of winter, while the earth lay bare — an open mud- scarred wound — I long for blue of shadows cast by moon on snow. […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 