Sunday, April 7, 2013

2013 Poem 7: In a field by Hook Mountain

In the field by Hook Mountain
chill suburban skies
were starry and cloudless,
yet the air hung with lush possibility
in the days when Pioneers
and Vikings explored
alien shores.

The telescopes at the party
would be dwarfed
by those I'd use a decade later
but they all looked giant to me.
And all were well-loved,
dobs and newtonians alike.

M13 and the Ring Nebula
held little appeal to me.
It was a different ring
that led to my engagement.

The first view was a jolt.
It really looked like  they said it would,
pale and perfect, ansa to ansa.
A platonic ideal of itself
even today.


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