Shored between tomorrow and the past
Granitic wavelets rolling, kneading sand with pewter clouds adrift like ships. Breathing bearded daisies falling into softness, moistened by my failing songs. A walk so gentle, daring is this wind […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
They served the black milk of the past
They came at dawn, benevolent with promises with open hands, and buses, candy-smiles, separating fathers from their wives sisters to the left and brothers to the right before they served […]
Summer rain
Reflected silver from the glossy leaves. A book to read while sheltered from the rain A cup of tea and songs to fill my brain of water slowly falling from […]
They stole the night.
Once — before they stole our night to sell the sky to trade the blue and stars of nebulae and moons, our sleep. for overalls and days of gray. They […]
How to see the light
‘I crave the darkness to appreciate the light’, Sheila ran the razor gently across her skin. The scars would remind her of the nights when her father couldn’t let her […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 