Ode to the last leaves of autumn
Today you cling to twigs; the last of leaves still there before the bending boughs are bared I still recall the burst of buds In May when blackbirds sang and […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Being busy caring
Holidays. The street is filled by shoppers. They have to show they care. They have gifts to buy for nieces and for cousins. There are gifts to wrap, to ship […]
Pretending to believe
As Ouroboros, beginning biting ends, we satellite in hope/despair. Waiting is pretending to believe we can stargaze future into truth. You and me; a space-time curvature — a gravity of […]
Muted
My kicks are muted — leaves falling into water and how the gravel whisper under wheels. I say hello, to those who walk their dogs; it’s a habit — bicycling […]
Before it happened
Have you seen the sidekicked — he, the silent man; she, who makes his stew? Have you listened to the voiceless? Have you seen how dust may cover gardens, how […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 