Issue No. 15, Winter 2015

Love Poem for Northern Lights
Rebekah Rempel

I listen for your ghostly swish, your flow and feather
through the glacial night sky, tapestries of radioactive silk
billowing on solar winds. Living far from the ocean

I have never seen plankton aglow
in dark waters, but you must be the closest thing,
mermaid hair fanned by current. You make me believe

in blessings, divine
breath, and souls caught in limbo,
weeping phosphorescence. According to myth, you move

when I clap—otherly intelligence, alien
taffy stretched across the hemisphere, swallowed by dawn’s
insistent pink throat. Shape-shifter, amoeba,

Aurora Borealis, you surface like a photograph
exposed on the universe, make these long winters
more bearable. Then with a tilt of the earth

you fade. And I wait for your return
as one might for a ship—these hills a darkened harbour,
your green sails rippling.


Rebekah Rempel studied creative writing at the University of Victoria. Her poems have appeared in the anthologies Force Field: 77 Women Poets of British Columbia (Mother Tongue Publishing) and Unfurled: Collected Poetry from Northern BC Women (Caitlin Press), as well as the journals Lake, Room, Cactus Heart Press, and One Throne Magazine. Her poems are also forthcoming in Prairie Fire and Contemporary Verse 2. Additionally, she contributed to the Written in Stone Project that displays poetry in a park in Dawson Creek, BC.