polar stratospheric clouds (the technical term)
thin and high and carried here
by a dip in the polar vortex
formed over mountains, probably
of air forced up and cooled fast
to droplets of ice in close to uniform sizes
and appearing here
at just the time
- around the winter solstice –
when the sun slips out of sight below the horizon
at the perfect elevation
to light them up in glory above the darkening world
not mere white and gold, but in diffraction bands
of clear, resonant colour: rose and orange and green
electric blue and indigo
like the haze in front of a waterfall in sunlight
or the shining skin on petrol-polluted water
maybe pooled or ditched beside this road
where we pull off into a layby
cut the engine, and take photographs
of this lightshow
these nacreous clouds
the local paper says are a rare phenomenon
except that this, on Christmas Eve
is the fifth successive day of them
in this year of once-in-a-generation weather
coming round again so soon
and where we would once have asked the priest
what they portend, we're asking meteorologists now
- and what can they say of this or any sign?
Judith Taylor
Judith Taylor lives in Aberdeen, where she co-organises the monthly Poetry at Books and Beans events. Her latest collection, Across Your Careful Garden, is published by Red Squirrel Press. She is a longtime volunteer with Pushing Out the Boat magazine, and one of the Editors of Poetry Scotland.