Tonight's Poet Corner: Magnetic

Magnetic
by Belinda Roddie 

When the compass points north,
it points to the Northern Lights,

aurora
borealis

hanging in the sky with an
open palm that
holds up
Heaven.

And when the sun
regurgitates
its fumes

the Earth spins clockwise
and the wheel weaves
the  

coronal
mass 

back into the Northern Sky's
steady
cosmic
fingers. 

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