Canyons of fire open on the sun.
Chance storms cross earth through folds of giant ripplings.
These events spark brighter arcs.
Green comets approached earth.
Fast-moving auroras flickered around never-ending circles.
Rainbow spokes lanced the clouds.
All night long the skies showcased
changing forms and colors green, pink, purple, and white
while curtains and coronas pulsed.
Now we’re glowing north to south:
recaptured images of mirrored selves extend downward,
arched beneath rising waves of light.
. . . . .
Poet: Susan Powers Bourne
Process: Pick-mix selection