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The Tale of the Northern Lights
An Eskimo darling was born many years ago
Though her name is not relatively important
I will tell you it was “Mig”
Her mother every night would swaddle her dear child
In bright colorful blankets and a dribble cloth bib
Near the fire Mig would sleep
But not too close
Just enough for the light to reflect the colors of her clothes
The colors would travel through the igloo chimney hole
Glowing softly through the sky; there they would dance, play, and roll
The few living there in the tundra would awe and smile
For you could see the colors of the cloth for many a’ mile
It was especially bright the colder times of year
And in those frozen seasons many would stay up late just to catch a glimpse
Of their own colorful frigate
And though many years have passed
Since Mig was alive
More have carried on the tradition as not to deprive
The cold nights of warmth and the color-thirsty sky
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