Questions again
What had the plums been planning before they were eaten for breakfast? How does the wheat kernel know the best way to bake bread? Is your microwaved alphabet soup better […]
Acquainted with the night
I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain—and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light. — Robert Frost Daylight never offers […]
On my way to visit my mother
Diversion of rain caught me lacking umbrella on my way to the deathbed of mother. My mother is dying now, I have given farewell so many times before. But now […]
Willing to wilt
Not easy to fit the rhythm of bits it tilts into pieces; no wit or reason is lit it wilts like flowers in grit are lost without shit in guilt. […]
Horizing
It’s not the scent of vertical rain, but how the shadows where spun from a cumulus cloud to flee with the wind cross the vastness of sea and to meet […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 