A Birthday Present (Sylvia Plath Poems)
What is this, behind this veil, is it ugly, is it beautiful? It is shimmering, has it breasts, has it ...
What is this, behind this veil, is it ugly, is it beautiful? It is shimmering, has it breasts, has it ...
Lady, your room is lousy with flowers. When you kick me out, that's what I'll remember, Me, sitting here bored ...
The day you died I went into the dirt, Into the lightless hibernaculum Where bees, striped black and gold, sleep ...
In the rectory garden on his evening walk Paced brisk Father Shawn. A cold day, a sodden one it was ...
From my rented attic with no earth To call my own except the air-motes, I malign the leaden perspective Of ...
A dream tree, Polly's tree: a thicket of sticks, each speckled twig ending in a thin-paned leaf unlike any other ...
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