Nordic Quatrains
The rusty pot at rainbow’s end Plucked of arms and legs My mother’s secrecy Tethered round her fingerbone Her wild raft is set adrift Forgotten is the hungry road In […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Shadows from far too long ago
When gradually I blend with dancers of the shadowplay with canopies aghast with beasts and birds seeking shelter just like me, a memory. I walk to find a path among […]
Chiaroscuro Masks
Your dreams as shadows of the day it’s cards I kept and never played for scars behind chiaroscuro masks When awake why did I have to ask? I feared a […]
Silent bricks
Silence. Yet another day of hope, another day to clean the counter-tops, the tables and the windows. Eileen wanted it perfect when Mike returned. She touched her wedding-band and noticed […]
Life is white
White is life; it’s every hue combined in equal measure. The passion of your heart, the love of red, of blood and anger. It’s the cold and distant blue, rejection […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 