Aurora Over Norway
Marked Hills by Joey Ng
A single keyhole in the soft white suede
Bubbles gently with its green hued warmth,
Beckoning those who pass the tiresome slopes
Underneath webs of cold barren branches.
From this keyhole a thick vaporous swirl
Of intoxicating fumes permeate
The air with its rich and resinous haze,
Opulence far beyond the humble hills.
As the smoke rises, the clouds far above
Give way to reveal stars for the taking.
The smoke greedily obliges, rising
Further to fully canvas the night sky.
The eerie green haze coils about itself,
Swallowing each luminous sphere, moon and
Star alike in their vast entirety
As it passes through the still atmosphere.
The spindly old trees sag underneath
An immense pressure; the weight of the green
Haze presses down and coerces their full
Fealty, an oath that now must be made,
An absolution of previous ways.
Amidst the ever-rising haze, a dark
Hooded figure emerges from the snake’s
Mouth, infuriatingly silent and
Still, careful not to agitate the air.
With a smile, the figure watches the marked
Hills, waiting for a hapless traveler
To indulge in its opulent whispers.
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