Autumn breath
Exhale — let spirit merge with first November’s mud-born shadows, rancid, ripe and fungi-filled, drizzled, eye-lid-burdened-born in autumn’s lack of light. Exhale — let loose remaining light, embrace this reek […]
Category Archives: Real Toads
Hesitant
The autumn leaves, still hesitant to leave, are like my poems desperately seeking questions better fitting every manifold of vagrant answers waiting to decay. A very short poem written for […]
Forever of water
He lures you with his fiddle moaning from the eddies, in the foam of water where the stream is fiercest. He tempts you with the way the river rushes, crushes […]
Being sand for you
Let me be your pebble — seashore-polished, rolling, resting softly in your frothy wave-embrace — you my tear-salt ocean, you my kelp-girl, crested lady let your seaweed loose and play […]
The awe of wondering
It’s not from fear or might declaring knowledge — or what’s right. It’s not from snow-capped peaks, or rowdy waterfalls — but how we seek for questions in the hearts […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 