Moonlight skis
When I remember father it’s mostly his vicious temper, when the weight of the world ready to cause an outburst, his fits of rage in front of the television. His […]
Category Archives: haiku
Northbound train
We are many called for, seeking north. I see an elderly couple waiting; they have mountains in their eyes. We are leaving Stockholm at the break of spring to seek […]
The softest grass
“Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.” ― Mary Oliver There are partings and […]
Next stop des Moines
Our bus is a cocoon; united only few of us diverges into time and space. We ride a comet’s tail, we are encased inside a satellite. Light outside are planets; […]
The art of baking your bread
The art of baking a bread starts with knowing the flour. When you smell it, are you transported to wheat fields, to summer and soil? Can you feel the sun […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 