Cloudscape
You are the wind-kiss, my goosebumps the stirrer of silver; moon-spilled in water. You are the surf-sound, the sand, and the sage-scent at dusk You are the river and grass, […]
Category Archives: Quadrille
Still Life with Onions
More faithful than your lying rose, no thorn will bite me, no promises are faked from petals dropped too soon, Your onion-kiss remains to linger on my lips; and with […]
Winter loss
When only dark- ness tells of winter, while the earth lay bare — an open mud- scarred wound — I long for blue of shadows cast by moon on snow. […]
Phoenix (or not)
When every library is filled, will poets be librarians? Will we take care to not create? If every verse exists, should we let pens run dry, or should we turn […]
Still life with apples
No more honey bees no bumblebees no butterflies no flies or moth no buzz of wilderness to pollinate and afterward silent orchard workers climb the trees to gently brush the […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 