A sapling found
O silent moon, divine, when velvet gowns are shed, your silver slips through fingertips of frozen branches while from the deeper downs, perfumed, a song of dryads cling; their lips […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Listening to shadows
I listen to my shadow, spelling words of moon, a certain taste in songs, the grass beside the path we used to walk where birds were flutes and taste of […]
… and she was light
Sun kissed the dry grass a last time before condensation froze to silvery rime. A veiled woman drifted almost aimlessly to the edge of an industrial plot. Cristina was beautiful […]
Wonderground
Seated in the underground, my shoulder pressed against my neighbor’s dampness soggy wool. Her face is veiled, a glimpse of sorrow in mascara streaks; wilted roses in her hands. Suddenly […]
No sails at the horizon
footprint in the sand with every wave it’s fainter — sea-gulls overhead call to mock my lonely wait no sails at the horizon Today Toni tells us about Tanka as […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 