Hands
“The clear vowels rise like balloons” S.Plath ~ Morning Song If this angel’s hands are wingsher voice the birds of preyher smile the arrow singeing steelto heal the scars, to […]
Category Archives: dVerse
Clouds above a sea calm
When — my sweetheart did we get lost,wayward drifting on these wild and windless waters?Where — my darling, did we part ways, with me at sea and you at shore?Why — […]
Old man winter
Icicle-bearded,wearing worsted wooland well-laced bootsold man winter came at last to visit,frosting trees and paintingrosy cheeks on children (and on us)playing, skiing in the snowa weekend to survivewhile passing timeuntil spring and […]
Old Curt
They only know me as Curt and I keep to myself. I never wanted to end up living with bullfrogs and mosquitoes as neighbors, but the law cannot touch me […]
Morning coffee
Be I,the broken cupyou stain in scarlet sipping coffee;lipsticked leisurely. Be I,the fumes that twistits hungry fingers through your moaning bangscaffeinated eagerly. Be I,caress of sugarmelting on your tongueinvitedinside willingly Be I,be […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 