There is plenty to suck
The thin veneer of day, its light is scabs for scars, Its wind a paper wall for mares. The daylight is Pandora’s box, still closed. It’s a breath prepared for […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Keyhole stories
So much is wasted, in breathless peeking through the keyhole at skin exposed in the unlit chamber with drawn curtains. When Susie prompt us to write about keyholes at toads […]
Summer
Remembrance is the persistent itch from grains of sand remaining in a left shoe from summer beachwalks just before sunset. I wrote a second entry for Victoria’s prompt on imaginism […]
The oak and moon
Watched with arms outstretched the oak with boughs and branches shadowplays the moon in black swan arabesque. Today at dVerse MTB Victoria want us to write Imagist poetry inspired by […]
Sandcastles
There is a trace of spring in the air, as we walk the same route as every day. “We built it well, Eileen, it looks exactly like when we moved […]
