Spring Girl Magic
The sun is an oyster with turmeric hands,as the midmorning spring un-ribbon her hairto let tresses, as water, trickle through sandand merge with the restless waves of the sea,as apple-bloom […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
The name of Ogg
Rooks in flocks forge homeward,fresh-snapped twigs in beaksforest watches, silent, lost for wordsonly Owl knows the secrets seeked.Moon girls dance, tiptoe across bogsin his cave the lonely troll-boy weepsfor being […]
Mid May Summer
The weekend passed with a foreboding taste of summer. The blackthorn dropped its white veil of white bloom and the ground under the forsythia is yellow from fallen flowers. My […]
Behind me
That last time we tried, pretending, hand in hand, in strained silence walking to the lake. The birches dressed in sheer green with a white carpet of wood anemones underneath […]
Boxed books
Meandering, bemoaned eachminute detail, on how to cataloguehe dreamt in Dewey Decimal,each word, a part unique, to be tagged,but like blended hues turns greyhis certified collections diminished until I found […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 