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Aurora Borealis

Temperatures above the standard seventies fall with each knot
Each wave dragooning my dingy to capsize
In a vicissitude of gravitational pull from right to left
With arms that seize and forget to let go
But they will never pull me under

Shards of glass painted in gauche tints
But this is more than just an impression
There are creatures that hide beneath placidity
Hooking with frozen claws in litotes of kindness
But they will never pull me down

This creature, the Arctic, they call it
A wasteland untouched by god
Assimilates the lost and fortunate
As death is the great equalizer
But it will never pull me away

An aperture emerges from the mien above me
Twirling in a quixotic manner
That no one would believe if I told
Peeking down from heaven to inhale
Only to submerge once again in the vast ocean above


Aurora borealis
Misunderstood among death's messengers
You appear to give this life hope
That beauty exists in all
But it will never be pulled from me
A horizon of endless possibility
Awaits the starboard thrust into arcane bodies few have known
But among the danger of expedition's folly
There lies a guiding flame from above
Aurora borealis, pull me home

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Jest In All Seasons

Beginning when the axis flips
And the sun's rays lose their acute|
Penetrating blow
The trees will start to change
By losing or blooming
And circling themselves
In a chain that has yet to cease
Such that fruit bares a reflection
Glossed in its rot
Only to be decomposed
And the season will start again
Rejuvenated from its sleep
With welcome breath of chilling
Winter moments
Feeding off to the spring
When all the world
Says welcome home jellybean
To ride away|
With the warm fronts of summer
And rest in fall
Beneath the spinning earth
Because they all change

The properties of wind and water
Are more constant than the sun
Just as I am
For the seasons may revolve
And do so eternally|
But I will be fond of you
Just the same
For winter is melted by a glow
But your smile could never
Chase me away
And spring withers beneath the heat
But your presence would never be so unbearable
That I could not stay
While summer flees
At the sight brown foliage
I live for those brown locks
That occupy space on your crown
And fall is the shortest of all
Finishing her job
And meticulously leaving
For though I love her most
If I ever accomplished all with you
I would remain to repeat the process

A jest in all seasons
Is the character I was born to play
For you do not execute the jester
When he only does
What the seasons do
Be the way nature spun her cloth
For the goal is not to insult
But bring about a crevice
Waxing between powdered lips
To relish at the sound
Of choppy and glassy
Waves of laughter
Overtaking the conversation
Without any restraint

But your insecurities do you no good
When you dismiss it all
For a slanderous game
Wounding the one
Who existed
Only to entertain
Release the pent up emotive being
That causes you to rebuke it all
And live the way
Summer does
Enjoying her short time
For you are pretty as she
But you cannot let yourself see it
For you are spring
And vain
When you beg the poets
To create verse of your glory
Etching the beknown fact
That you are grandiose
For winter instructs best
The way she is without regard
To be the storm or sleet
Sheltering shallow swarms
Of all who cannot retreat
I pay tribute to your beauty
But I refuse to acknowledge so
At least at a reoccurring frame of mind
When I love things so deeply
They swim in silence
Within my heart
And mind
Where they are assuaged by the idea
That they are cherished
For I placed them there
And no spoiled pear of spring
Will ever gain access
Free yourself of disillusion
And recognize my fondness of you
For I have already constructed
A temple of worship
With my dreams
And I chant
The words over and over again
But I will not speak them
For they only mar
How I feel
If they were public
Like all else
Dirtying the roads

I am most of all
Fall
For I am autumn
Betwixt in your moods
With only a small role
Humble to all the seasons
For I am the shortest
And lest applauded
So my ostentatious manner
Of leaves and legerdemain
Come off in a boisterous fashion
But I do not mean them in insult
For they are gifts
That are produced for you
And the descending leaf|
Will remind you
That I am deciduous in behavior
Poking and ridiculing
The one I love most



Jennifer Crivlare is a 28-year-old Air Force Veteran currently living in Iowa City, Iowa. She has been writing for the past three years as a way to pass the time since a debilitating form of epilepsy rendered her disabled from a “normal” life. Her essays have been published in the Salt Lake Tribune, American Legion Magazine, and the Cedar Rapids Gazette. She was a featured poet in the Fall/Winter 2003/2004 issue of the Muse Apprentice Guild.



Copyright 2005, Jennifer Crivlare. This work is protected under the U.S. copyright laws. It may not be reproduced, reprinted, reused, or altered without the expressed written permission of the author.