Susan’s last letter
My dearest John,I cannot tell how much I wept, how hard it is for meto sleep imagining your shell-shocked comrades crying, mud-reeked in your gangrene-boredomof November rain,but I know of lack of food and sustenance because […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Lunchtime
Dare me dear, to spread my wings;drift with winds and sail on thermal waves to wait and gaze before we see a flicker through the hazeand swiftly dive to dart,to pierce the plump, delicious rabbit’s […]
Not forever but…
It’s not forever but we never soughtthis dull endeavorof none and null and staying put alone, six feet apartto wash our handsand banning hugs behaving well and hope that others do as well. It’s been […]
A keen edge
On the precipice of duskonly the librarian can see the keen edgeof lost luciditybecause the nightis infinite, insistentinsatiable, a brutedevouring sanity and sensescribbling wacky verses on the bedroom walls. That’s why the […]
Becoming
Remembering awakening in my bed, the grownups talking in the living room outside my room. My blue-walled bed was open on one side so I could have tiptoed out to […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 