Aurora Borealis
A poem by Jennifer Lagier

Aurora Borealis
for my cousin, Christina Angela Jensen, victim of Gulkana Glacier in June 2005

How rapidly after the girl
fell into bottomless Alaskan crevasse, did she realize there 
would be no escape?

As she slid down blue abyss,
her desperate hands clawed icy walls  for unattainable 
purchase.

In those final moments, did angels sing while her body
plummeted
and severed soul ascended?

Native Americans say the dead
become northern lights, dance across night sky. Ancestral spirit guides 
flare above glacial crypt.

About the Author:

Jennifer Lagier lives a block from the stage where Jimi Hendrix torched his guitar during the 1967 Monterey Pop Festival. She taught with California Poets in the Schools, edits the Monterey Review, helps coordinate Monterey Bay Poetry Consortium Second Sunday readings. Jennifer has published nineteen books, most recently: Meditations on Seascapes and Cypress (Blue Light Press), COVID Dissonance (CyberWit), Camille Chronicles (FutureCycle Press), Moonstruck (CyberWit). Forthcoming: Weeping in the Promised Land (Kelsay Books), Postcards from Paradise (Blue Light Press).

Website: jlagier.net

Facebook: www.facebook.com/JenniferLagier/

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