Words by Sylvia Plath



After whose stroke the wood rings

And the echoes!

Echoes traveling

Off from the center like horses.


The sap

Wells like tears, like the

Water striving

To Re-establish its mirror

Over the rock


That drops and turns,

A white skull

Eaten by weedy greens.

Years later I

Encounter them on the road–


Words dry and riderless,

The indefatigable hoof-taps,


From the bottom of the pool, fixed stars

Govern a life.

~Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s