[Critique Group 2] Leonard's comments on Alice

[tuchyner5 at aol.com]

Alice

 

This is a wonderful poem.

The milky whitehorse  tells the story of  your towns history  with the coalmines. 

How it poisoned the waters and changed the color of the horse. 

In other words, itpolluted him.  

The coal mines were aterrible place to work. 

I know a little of yourhistory fighting the mines. 

The horse doesn’t let yousleep in peace. You have to do something about it. 

The yellow eyes and lustfor gold speaks of the greed that motivated the operators of the coal mines. 

The huge proportions ofthe horse is emblematic of the  huge influence that the coal mines had  on society. 

They were gluttons thatoverwhelmed society. 

The message is left toloby against the mines. Which you did. 

Coal gets in your eyes.You must weep.

 

In a Dream Came the White,Mine Horse

 

StoryPoem by Alice Jane-Marie Massa

 

 

In a dream came the white horse

whose story Margie told.

The massive, milky white horse,

who had worked at the coal mine

that bordered our propertyline,

galloped gracefully into mydream

to tell me the stories 

of the turn-of-the-centurymines,

the Indiana mines of the early1900s, and much more.

 

Born in Italy, in 1879, mygrandfather--

who, despite his 6’1”-height, 

worked the mines for too manyyears--

insisted with only a lightItalian accent and a couple of tears,

“None of my four sons will everset foot

in a coal mine.”

None did.

 

Yet, the massive, milky whitehorse

from the old mine near my house

trots boldly into my dream.

“I know your story.  Goaway!  Go away!

I do not have an apple nor hayfor you,” I say.

 

He whinnies with laughter anddoes not obey.

The massive, milky white horsespeaks in my dream,

“Don’t you know I eat coaldust?

Do you know why my eyes areyellow?

Because from all those miners,

I caught the lust for gold.”

He whinnies with laughter, andmy body turns cold.

 

“Forget this pretense of thepresent tense,”  I snap.

“Margie told me you drowned inthat old pond—

the pond, near the shale hill,our mountain.”

 

“Oh, so, you do know why I am

so massive and milky white.”

 

“If you had really worked inthe mine,

you wouldn’t be so tall andwhite.

Just go!  Go, and let mesleep.”

 

“Listen, I was not always ahorse of twenty hands;

as a colt, I was a white orcream.

Of course, when I worked, Igrew gray and black 

from the ever-present coaldust.  

How that life weighed down myback!

But, after all those years 

of washing in that old pond,

I turned a milky white

so that I could take flight

into your dream to tell you:

lobby against Cavallo CoalCompany—

they will blast and scrape andsour

your pretty, little town.”

 

I lie back down, but cannotsleep.

Wiping coal dust from my eyes,I begin to weep…

 
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