Forest memories
Yesterday is but today’s memory, and tomorrow is today’s dream Khalil Gibran The forest always talks to me, some days in whispered sweetness: how our first kiss tasted, how your […]
Tag Archives: prose
An old woman’s blessing
The day we started our walk the peaks were still covered with snow. Áhkká, the old woman, had let her silver hair loose to meet the summer breeze, returning after […]
Crumbling truths
Afterwards the lies are crumbling. The sea is poisoned and through the smog the moon is a sickle in my blood. Sometimes I hear your voice: “They told us it […]
Tepid coffee
We were creatures of the night, consuming decadence of prohibition bars, sultry jazz and acid booze; with smoke of cigarettes hanging from your crimson lips we burnt like moths in […]
Carpe Diem Haiku – blues
The autumn rain beat his back relentlessly as he went to work again; the concrete had lost all its petrichor; instead the air was filled with decay of falling leaves. […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 