289: The Harvester

The harvester stalks

into the night

striding on long legs with joints

that bend in wrong directions

as it sways forward

one leap

after another

tracing the fine line of silver life

until there

the bee

lies lifeless on the ground

between the tulips and the rose bush

long dead

long cold

and the harvester pulls it in

aboard his little ferry

to carry it across

for its new flight.

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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.