Gratitude
“Thank you”, he said, again and again, a broken record. On the bottom of the coffee mug were some lonesome coins. His deep-set eyes kept shards and secrets and he […]
Tag Archives: haibun
Reeds
Days have followed days during the pandemic but during the holidays we at least never signed into work. Instead we cleared some space in our cluttered home. Space that we […]
Five days before All-Saints
The street lights reflecting in the wet asphalt and leaves cannot penetrate the deeper shadows beside the foot-path. We walk in silence as I think of my childhood, both my […]
Fog-silenced
When the path leads onward over rocks and crags with only cairns to lead the way our hope of catching the promised view had diminished. We had started in the […]
Perfecting crust
It’s pathetic really, but I blame our pandemic restriction, having to work from home, I become a villager, walking around the neighborhood watching the same gardens slowly changing from winter […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 