Ghost owl habitat
This night is moon; is ghost-owl habitat, an ink-washed shadow-journey, mourning lack of luster, loss of glow; This night is close to death, but through self-inflicted exorcism, painful rites of […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
The librarian’s apprentice
The new apprentice — zephyr-torn with tresses tied and apple-cheeks to mask her scowl — tall she strode in polished patent-leather brogues seeking for the syllables to steal and stitch […]
Still life in the library
The aged librarian can not survive on syllables who are bled in ink to sentences alone. He cannot live on pulp providing sustenance in wasted books; but the aged librarian […]
Mandibles
I still remember the week we moved the classroom to a farm. How we could connect the pictures in the book with the insects that we found. I still remember […]
Extinction of dreams
‘How dare you? You have stolen my dreams and my childhood’ Greta Thunberg Extinction of dreams with your waging of wars, is worse than the screams and the rage from […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 