Water trapped in bogs
Her sentences where rivers once, meandering through marshlands, building into lakes and rushing rapids, heading for the sea. “Why was I never told, that mother’s dead?” She’s angry once again, […]
Tag Archives: mother
When autumn silence rules
Resting cold as granite, your eternal carving lies among the oak trees’ roots Where earthworms eat the leaves and bones, waiting for the winter’s snow. But autumn silence rules as […]
Carpe Diem Haiku – Pearl
doted daughter grows from wrinkled hands – mother of pearl Linked to Carpe Diem — August 8, 2014
Björn Rudbergs writings 