She haunts the mansion late at night
Her soul’s too grey from sorrow she is the shadow borrowed wild, she is nocturnal flicker, wind-on-candle- mist & midnight-moans, she stirs your loins upsets you with her ice and […]
Category Archives: Real Toads
I’m all ears
I scavenge secrets that you softly whisper, to the darkness’ moon-wise sky. I sense your agonies, I sense the aftertaste of pillow-tears, I see the shadow-cries beneath your eyes, I […]
Asking the tree
Below unseen rest world-roots spinning bloom to buds of you and me, there beneath the firmament of wood the norns tend lifelines of our being, only they will know the […]
the muse of April
when in my undulating heartbeats I see silence only you bring songs of April newborn leaves you are the dancing sun-lit dust pretending to be stars you are rain on […]
April rebirth
With bell-cries from the withered grass, a lone-wolf scent and tart-taste gloom is rising from this winter’s pyre, while YOU — my serpent — you tempt me with the slingshot […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 