Cobblestone memory
Walking the streets of Stockholm’s old town we only notice tourists. These last day of spring they flock around the souvenir shops, snap selfies or pull their roller-bags on cobblestones. […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Grandfathers
The mirror speaks of ancestral sternness and the burden of my duties striated around my eyes, I see their foreheads rising skyward, relentless, proud and I can sense their frenzy […]
Dreams and death
You painted all your dreams in pink and neon and drifted far from woods to New Year’s hailing we took you home to rest, but you went sailing we tried […]
Dusk
You taste my hands preparing us for dusk, in tangerine the sky adorns itself for dusk. We listen for the nightingales to sing, and let the longing of our lips […]
Blindfolded
“We knew nothing”, Stan exclaimed, polishing the chrome. “You mean you never listened to anything but Fox”, Em sighed. “To fake news and Chinese propaganda, you mean?” “And 99% percent […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 