Aurora
Along midnight lanes lights flash
on stane dykes, mercury puddles, fields
of stubble and dark.
Fierce rocks pinned solid against the skyline,
the Castle, Arthur’s Seat, the Crags.
Ancient light spangles the sky.
But tonight no Borealis cavort,
no Merries dance in green and magenta silk.
Only innocent white pricks timeless black.
Near home, blue light sways with pale
sprites as TVs flit in living rooms. My neighbours’
blinkered eyes look inwards,
no time for handed down tales. No stories
whisper near candle flames, no land of legend,
storytelling left to others.
Finola Scott is a slam-winning Granny who writes short stories and poems. She has won competetions at national level. Her work is widely available in many anthologies, magazines and zines. Recently she has moved into recording podcasts. She can be found performing in a pub near you! Hobbies included chocolate and tickling grandchildren.
Great poem xxxx
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A moving and poignant poem – love it
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