228: Becoming

I uncurl. My toes touch the ground. The windows are open, inviting the cold night air inside. An ice cream van passes below. I stand. I am light. I swirl, my toes rooted, by feet moving with the rotations of the earth. I walk. I glide. My feet are naked. The ground presses up. It curls around my toes. Holds me. Steadies me. I stand rooted. I sway. I extend. I am.

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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.