Willowed will
Willow me from wont, let be just you and me; let old be gone send silver, gold and let us see, in billows, fields aglow, the way, from habit to […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Our second sun
It’s the blisters forming, second, sometimes even third, degree; like drinking moonshine or the tom yum gai on swollen tongues. It’s chap of lips. It’s claws extending from the mushroom […]
At the therapist
You say it’s only healing while I pick at scabs coping, hoping that someday I’ll learn to live with stitches, stretch of scars and this: my skin’s too thin to […]
Another wedding
“Mrs. Hart, are you awake” Myra woke with a jolt from the banging on her door. It didn’t look like morning yet, but she could hear the lashes from the […]
Wishful thinking
I wish my wishful thinking could be more, much more than this, my sinking into wistful drinking. I wish I had more restless vigor, urge of yearning, a will to […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 