252: The Old Part of Town

Walking down alleys into the old part of town,

I tense. Each step

sends a jolt up my spine, shaking loose

thoughts and memories I would rather

remained hidden. I thought

I had made my peace with them,

but they crawl by like the curtained windows

just above the ground

and I know that if I stop to knock

and the curtains part,

I will spiral into an underground network

of pipes and sewers that drags me deeper

and deeper.

Instead I look up and forge on,

finding my way to a naked hilltop among the buildings,

where a stiff breeze pulls at my hair

and chills my cheeks until they're freezing.

But it's good. It sends the sunlight scuttling

across rooftops, and my hopes rise.

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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.