The skies rip open:
aurora borealis.
Fox-fire brushes the mountains.

I keep silent, in case light-storms
tangle in my hair.
Perhaps I’ll whistle, if I dare,
to bring them closer.

Green light rustles.
It’s the footsteps of the dead
from the world beyond the wind.

Unfolding, shimmering across the skies,
it fades to red.

My compass warped.

Note: Da Mirrie Dancers (The Merry Dancers) is the Shetlandic name for the Northern Lights.

‘Da Mirrie Dancers’ is in the author’s pamphlet Flout published by HappenStance, 2015.

© Stephanie Green

You can see more of Stephanie’s word on her website: https://sites.google.com/site/stephgreen1/