Tasting the fall
The last Monday evening in November. I ponder gratitude. Not from fireworks or bloom, not from listening to birdsong or submerging in rose-perfume of June. In autumn only evergreens and […]
Category Archives: haibun
Two of a kind
Is there any sense of soil in the way my chromosomes are curled? Or is the grass and wind expressed in the way I spin my words to syllables? I […]
Mandibles
I still remember the week we moved the classroom to a farm. How we could connect the pictures in the book with the insects that we found. I still remember […]
Constant hum
Since many years ago, my body has forgotten the way it sometimes aches when I had used my arms, how my back could be in pain from bending low to […]
Skinny dipping a midsummer night
The seemingly eternal twilight of the midsummer night is ripe with the calls from sparrows and finches, We can hear their hurried movement among bramble and bracken. A doe is […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 