A silvered crescent moon smiles
on the sparkling icy snow-covered meadow below
Silent wolves gaze at the arctic sky
head erect, ears pulled forward
anticipating, anticipating

A clear crisp boreal sky is sprayed with stars
like bursts of wild flowers strewn on an alpine hillside.
In the distance, past the shadows,
the dark horizon blushes with a frosty glow,
bearing witness to the swelling overstep of prospectors and their gold mines
anticipating, anticipating

A quiver of nocturnal green
stretches across the vast stillness
then evaporates like a melting mirage
like foreplay, promising something more.
My desire broods like that of a young, inexperienced lover.
Will this be the night?

Without warning,
she dances across the night sky
with a kaleidoscopic hocus-pocus
emerald, rose, blond and lilac
shimmying with a boogie and a woogie
I only wish I could hear the sounds
inspiring her antics
as she smears the heavens with her joy.

Her name is Aurora
Her song is her own
Her light is within

—Anke Hodenpijl

Anke Hodenpijl developed a love for poetry as a youngster while learning to speak English as a second language. Poetry has always been her “happy place”.

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