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  #1  
Unread 12-13-2010, 11:38 AM
Alex Pepple Alex Pepple is offline
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Default Deck the Halls 2010 #8: Mizar and Alcor in Winter


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Mizar and Alcor in Winter


Cirrus dispersed. As a black night grew colder,
clearer, I spied the binary in the handle
of the Big Dipper dangling above my shoulder,
a pinprick twinkling by a blinding candle.

Absent the moon, its boreal corona,
I watched the stars rise east of Ellendale,
Guelph and Ludden, then wheel above Verona
and sleeping friends who farm near Englevale.

A thousand miles of road: I’d shunned the pavement
which bears the burdens I no longer ferry,
the cargo of material enslavement.
Six eagles hunted small game on the prairie.

An Arab prince’s fortunes once were measured
by blooded foals, by sons his wives could dandle,
by tributary quatrains to be treasured
and his eyesight: a pinprick by a candle.
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_______The plain vanilla repeat below is for those with clunky old browsers _______



Mizar and Alcor in Winter


Cirrus dispersed. As a black night grew colder,
clearer, I spied the binary in the handle
of the Big Dipper dangling above my shoulder,
a pinprick twinkling by a blinding candle.

Absent the moon, its boreal corona,
I watched the stars rise east of Ellendale,
Guelph and Ludden, then wheel above Verona
and sleeping friends who farm near Englevale.

A thousand miles of road: I’d shunned the pavement
which bears the burdens I no longer ferry,
the cargo of material enslavement.
Six eagles hunted small game on the prairie.

An Arab prince’s fortunes once were measured
by blooded foals, by sons his wives could dandle,
by tributary quatrains to be treasured
and his eyesight: a pinprick by a candle.



Last edited by Sharon Passmore; 12-13-2010 at 01:44 PM.
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  #2  
Unread 12-13-2010, 11:41 AM
Alex Pepple Alex Pepple is offline
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This is one that competes with “Little” for mastery. Everything about this poem is well-realized and masterful, right from the engaging title (yes, the wonderful sonics and lyricism start right from the title) to the ending candlelight, to the ease with meter, and imaginative and fresh rhymes such as dandle/candle’.

Our intergalactic journey is launched somewhere out there at Mizar and Alcor, and then, we’re teleported back to the earthbound neighborhood of farms and friends along ‘thousand miles of road’ that the narrator is quite familiar with and that evoke bittersweet memories. We then time-travel several centuries earlier to meet the Arab prince surrounded by the bounty of foals, wives and sons . . . perhaps, in contrast to ‘burdens’ the narrator ‘no longer [ferries]’.

This is simply a delightful poem, masterfully wrought, and rewards reading and re-reading.
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  #3  
Unread 12-13-2010, 11:56 AM
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Richard Meyer Richard Meyer is offline
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Not much to add to Alex's fine introduction. This may be my favorite thus far.
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  #4  
Unread 12-13-2010, 12:51 PM
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Petra Norr Petra Norr is offline
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Just awesome.
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  #5  
Unread 12-13-2010, 12:55 PM
Catharine Savage Brosman Catharine Savage Brosman is offline
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Default Mizor and Alcor in Winter, poem 8.


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This short poem weaves together multiple veins of imagery and observation: the celestial, the historical (but general, not specific---the Arab is a type, not a particular man), the natural, on a small scale (birds hunting), the communal (friends), the personal. The poem is a model of economy; all these veins are subtly introduced and connected. The striking contrast in scale (small terrestrial life, immense sky and stars) echoes ancient, honored observations. Notice how the trochaic line endings echo the beat of the title.
N.B. for those who might fear another trap. Mizor and Alcor really are named stars in Ursa Major.
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Last edited by Sharon Passmore; 12-13-2010 at 01:43 PM.
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  #6  
Unread 12-13-2010, 01:06 PM
Roger Slater Roger Slater is online now
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Fine poem, even by the standards of the poet whose identity I think we all can instantly discern. It really looks great in the cool deck, too -- white print on a dark background suits it.
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  #7  
Unread 12-13-2010, 02:58 PM
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Rick Mullin Rick Mullin is offline
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This is beautifully written. I feel, however, that there is a break between stanzas two and three, taking us out of our position next to N on a starry night, watching Mizar and Alcor tick over towns and neighbors that don't seem to be a thousand miles away.

This sort of Frostian revery:

A thousand miles of road: I’d shunned the pavement
which bears the burdens I no longer ferry,

kind of pulls me out of the magic of the sky.
"Six eagles hunted small game on the prairie" is interesting only to the extent that it is a metaphor for shifting bodies in the heavens. I don't know if it really works that way or whether the poet intended such a metaphorical reference.

The candle image, beautiful in stanza one, brings us back to the stars at the end...I love the close.

Last edited by Rick Mullin; 12-13-2010 at 03:32 PM. Reason: the break is between stanzas two and three.
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  #8  
Unread 12-13-2010, 06:36 PM
Lance Levens Lance Levens is offline
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Rick: A thousand miles of road: I’d shunned the pavement
which bears the burdens I no longer ferry,

kind of pulls me out of the magic of the sky.

These lines tell us hat N has unloaded burdens. He possesses little. Thus in the last line, he is as good as an Arab prince: they both can see the pin prick and the candle.


"Six eagles hunted small game on the prairie" is interesting only to the extent that it is a metaphor for shifting bodies in the heavens. I don't know if it really works that way or whether the poet intended such a metaphorical reference.

Again, the hunt (Darwinian life) goes on; but he's out of it now.
Like the unburdening, this release makes his comparison with the Arab prince more meaningful.
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  #9  
Unread 12-13-2010, 06:58 PM
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Rick Mullin Rick Mullin is offline
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Yes, Lance, I get it, but I'm out of "the night" in stanza 3-- six eagles hunting on the prairie under the big dipper? I am also taken out of the moment, which is less of a concern. But the pavement, the prairie,... Our man is talking about a black night growing colder. For me, there is a re-thread at stanza three. The stars at night and six (count 'em) eagles hunting visible (right?) small game in the same statement jars me.

That insisted upon, this is probably my favorite so far! All of these poems have their problems. The writing, as I said above, is beautiful and the close is probably good enough to tie together all threads.

Last edited by Rick Mullin; 12-13-2010 at 10:51 PM.
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  #10  
Unread 12-13-2010, 07:00 PM
David Rosenthal David Rosenthal is offline
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I know this one -- not from here but from its publication -- and I think it is masterful. Best so far.

David R.
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