My cocoon
This night is not a rose but sea and thorns, a gilded mirror, chandeliers and gneis, the end and new beginnings, moss and stones a story and a dream. This […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Old man oak
Still skeletal the gnarly canopy of this old man oak, with sap as thick as buttermilk, leans against despair of time; when suddenly the daring thrill of blackbirds challenge thaw […]
Tethered, snared and chained
She’s been tethered, snared and chained, to her path. She knows that diamonds aren’t a girl’s best friend if stuck with gold. But still she smiles at him, wrapped in […]
A million pillows
This white space: is only big enough to hold: a single heartbeat a noiseless feather falling a single careless word and the weight of million pillows suffocating from regret. A […]
Making plans
Blue in blue, my tires sing on gravel — sing the praise of beach and balls, of being sailor, pirate and to travel on the seven seas; to see it […]
