The name of sky
How to name the sky? Is it friendly, blue, with smiling clouds or heavy solemn pewter grey or black — a forceful fist of hail and snow? Is it sun […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
A road less traveled
A middle-aged man and his trophy-wife: “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood”, “What?, these are mountains Robert, there’s no wood for miles”. “And sorry, I could not travel both”. […]
Crumbling walls
Parched this soil of me — as in the shadow by this crumbling bulwark only nettles bloom. A soul like mine needs dande- lion strength to sing(e); to sprout and […]
Cleaning the house
Every new beginning clings to the edge, of a pivotal moment of regret; for a sorrow that can’t be measured, but carries in itself a weight, like the sickly smell […]
Enjoined to write
Thursday afternoon ~ The sound of rain on window – but soon friday #haiku — Björn (@brudberg) March 10, 2011 Every poem I have ever written exist in a digital […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 