Non-nomadery
I was born far from the sea, and only in November I could sometimes taste the salt in the wind. I grew roots, and settled, and any dreams I might […]
Category Archives: prosery
Seedling
The winter had been endlessly grey, sharing its hues with the blurred ink of my morning newspaper. Last year’s grass bowed, buff-colored, still resilient to its final decay, still waiting […]
Sail away
Many years ago we decided to follow the same path in the direction laid out by providence. We travel without a map and compass so at every crossroad we wait […]
Dark Crossroad
Dearest, I write these words from the crossroad we made. The sun has set, There are no stars, no moon. In the listless breeze I’m getting ready to leave. With this […]
Tomorrow, Forever
Two AM.A sullen wind pulling the pine trees bidding farewell.Alone, as you can only be among strangers in an asylum, I hear voices from the corners. Accusing voices of promises […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 