Poet-in-residence - Aurora

I am waiting for aberrations of light:
for quiet curves to arc and flutter,
to break into being.

For the skiffle sound of static
to announce shifting centres
of green, violet, white-blue.

For colour as its own pure note:
a Kandinsky composition,
deathless and graceful.

For forms to shape the charged air:
now a back-lit mountain, now a man
emerging from his own electric shadow.

For guttering light to veil the moon
and stars, unveil them. And while
every poem ever written

about the moon rises before me,
I wait here in the dark
with my eyes wide open.

By Heidi Williamson, our poet-in-residence.