A solar storm hit Earth last night.
I’d seen a headline warning about it,
so I wanted to keep an eye out.
Rare auroras filled the sky
as far south as our neighborhood
as about one billion tons of plasma
collided with the atmosphere at
one million miles per hour only
to be transmuted into the frailest
of colors fluttering like Paganini’s bow
through chromatic scales of stars.
But I forgot to look.
I wish I could say I saw it, but
I went to bed without even glancing
outside. I was thinking of work,
wondering if I’d have time to get
groceries tomorrow, wishing
the weather would change,
listening to the ceiling fan while
falling asleep beside you, who
were surely dreaming something
more amazing than anything
I could have missed.
Matthew Wood lives in Colorado and works as a mechanic. His work is forthcoming in Eunoia Review.
Sparks of Calliope 