327: Hard Fall

The weather had been mild

the last few days. The snow

had started to melt, leaving

pebble-spotted ice

and grey slush

in ditches and on pavements.

He made sure to remove

the snow on the front steps

so he wouldn't slip

or fall on his way

home from the market.

At leas that

was a fall

he thought he could

prevent.

Still,

he found himself

on his back in the driveway,

the streetlamp doubled in dance

after dance

after dance,

like they had twirled, inebriated,

around the glimmering lights

of the gleaming tree, warm

in the falling snow.

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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.