Even the sun-clouds this morning cannont manage such skirts.
Nor the woman in the ambulance
Whose red heart blooms through her coat so astoundingly--
A gift, a love gift
Utterly unasked for
By a sky
Paley and flamily
Igniting its carbon monoxides, by eyes
Dulled toa hault under bowlers.
O my God, what am I
That these late mouths should cry open
In a forest of frost, in a dawn of cornflowers.
Sylvia Plath, fm. Ariel
Thank you for the peace of silence and quietude.
Thank you for time to read alone in my favorite room, bathed in key light on the floor, books all around.
I pick one up and leaf through its pages.
I read a for awhile and find another.
The night is cool and chilly
and still.
I stop and sigh.
Thank you for the peace of silence and quietude.
Thank you.
10/10/2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment