After fire
After fire, the crosses, gowns, and graveyards bones and birch-trees noses, shackles, ropes lay ashen pyre-cold and we are left as ash to fertilize the flowerbeds ash to choke on […]
Tag Archives: sorrow
See me, you beholder
As footprints on the beach are washed away, like tears may dry or dreams will die at dawn are memories of streets we walked in rain. “It’s not like that”, […]
My marrow
My marrow mourns the broken bones I see in harrowed eyes from those who’ve fled the barrel bombs, the bloodshed and the tear of air from retribution and revenge. At […]
The elephant was named too late
The fading started years ago, your wit that withered and in search for words. We were frustrated, but you travelled and made friends, you saw China and Galapagos, you came […]
The precious jar
The young man hesitated before he left; the house foreclosed was empty, furniture collected, walls repainted, but on the kitchen counter was their jar of batteries; collected; ready for recycling. […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 