Northern Lights | Kaytlen Bennett

wind blew gently that night.
Crisp brown leaves started flying,
Around and around me as I waited.
Waiting, waiting for my first glimpse,
Of the Twilight's fireworks to begin.
Then I saw the brushstrokes of color,
Blazing on the black canvas of night.
Hours passed as I stared and gazed,
At that colorful painting in the sky.
Stroke by stoke the painting faded,
As I closed my eyes and drifted away.
Deeper,
Deeper,
Deeper,
Into my silent sleep