Bone Fire

Bright Aurora Borealis dances
in curves and pleats,
but we are too far south,
and with a stark dream of her northerly colors,
she impales herself upon the sliver of a moon.

Pallid fire-light flickers on the sand
and we can see a full dome
of stars because of the darkness,
the crashing lake and the
low evergreen dunes.

The pallet of this landscape
is a tense, brilliant-pale reflection
of what dark-matter must look like.

And we’re on the beach wanting
simply to live, and enjoy, and flick
pebbles into the bon-fire, watching
them crash into embers like waves on the shore
or a star burning itself out.