Falling
The falling’s suggestive, a promise of glitter, but after what’s festive you pick up the litter. The falling is heaven, a rush of impressions, you count up till seven before […]
Spring is blue
Spring came late this year, on first of April we still skated, and being indoors have been important, but finally the last ice had melted and a hesitant sun graced […]
Invertebrates
The men who jellyfished their way and tentacled with arid bitter hands on budding breast and butts have left; manured they stood and tried in vain to say: “it’s just […]
Who’s to blame?
Can you blame the sky for being blue? Can you stop the blackbird singing? Can you say that spring should halt and shroud it’s face with snow? Can you stop […]
Almost like running
The moment when you rush, with muscles pumping sweating and with blood taste in your mouth when you are strong and you are fast and when the path is smooth […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 