by John Grey
So cold, so sunless,
in these northern climes
and yet, in the distance,
horizon won’t go dark
as green dances deliriously
through brownish-red emissions,
glowing blue emulsions,
and solar wind blows pink and yellow.
The closer I draw my coat to me,
the wider my eyes open.
What once was shiver is now awe.
The air is bitter
but beauty will have none of it.
Source: Getty Images
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in Transcend, Dalhousie Review and Qwerty with work upcoming in Blueline, Hawaii Pacific Review and Clade Song.