207: Will-O'-the-Wisps

Flickers of light haunt the edges of my vision

like will-o'-the-wisps in bogs and marshes

or flashing headlights on the street below

as cars slip by silently

one after another

and I think about following them

one half-submerged tussock after another

to see what ancient relics the bog has decided to yield

for my inspection in the darkness of my room, music blaring

on my headphones and thoughts spinning

weaving tales and stories and I turn the relics, objects, thoughts,

between the phrases

in the white spaces

and tuck them into bed.

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Written by: Katrine Hjulstad

Instagram: @katrinehjulstad

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Publisher's note: All poetry published with Eudaemonia Records has been viewed and commented on by our editors. Ultimately, however, we believe that it is the writer's decision to accept or reject any suggestions made by the editors, and therefore take no responsibility for the final product.