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. […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Phoenix (or not)
When every library is filled, will poets be librarians? Will we take care to not create? If every verse exists, should we let pens run dry, or should we turn […]
Slow-silver dreams
Carry me, snow-moon — gently on wings through winter night’s dreaming and slow-silver spilled in the pools of the polar bear’s tears. Make me stronger through sleep and teach me […]
Behind the seventh shelf
Sometimes, when gibbously pregnant the moon descends behind a cloak of clouds to spend an argent night inside his library. She tiptoes in her silken slippers, teases him with flashes […]
Muddy Monday
Monday’s a heavyset woman wears boots and tramples through mud; she’s dressed in a hand-me-down trenchcoat and as she pulls up the collar to ward off the sleet that is […]
