245: Sleep on it (Don't)

I startle awake and wonder

how manmade annihilation would have looked

a century or two ago.

A living inferno, perhaps,

or something from Dante. Four pairs

of trampling hooves. Sudden.

I don't think they imagined

the slow burning. The creaking ice

breaking off into tidal waves, seized

by hurricanes and tsunamis.

The grass

a little browner each year.

The trees don't sprout green anymore.

I drift back into uneasy sleep.

---

Written by: Katrine Hjulstad

Instagram: @katrinehjulstad

---

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.