173: Flightless Birds

We live on borrowed time, running

around and around, circle

after circle

after circle

within our pens

and who notices the finishing line where ghosts

of eternal empires blow shrill whistles, unheeded

by our chase for immortality — immorality?

We dig we leap we dive we plummet and then

we fall.

And all for what? We have seen the bones

and layered sediments

of time and space beyond our fences

and still we chase and do not hear

their whistles in our ears.

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Written by: Katrine Hjulstad

Instagram: @katrinehjulstad

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Publisher's note: Please note that all poetry published with Eudaemonia Records has been seen by our editors, and that the editors have suggested revisions where they see fit, but we believe that it is ultimately the writer's decision to accept or reject any suggestions and take no responsibility for which suggestions they accept or reject.