In lieu of October's end approaching at a very rapid pace. I thought I better get on this poem. Just the idea of the title moreso. Poppies in October: By Sylvia Plath
Even the sun-clouds this morning cannot 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
Palely and flamily
Igniting its carbon monoxides, by eyes
Dulled to a halt 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.
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
Palely and flamily
Igniting its carbon monoxides, by eyes
Dulled to a halt 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.
between 10-20 more pages to go. oh wow. let the editing begin soon. bring on the rest of the devil semester. you are so close to ending. then I can remember that I have a life of vagabond existence ahead of me. oi vey.
ps. i'm about to post a photograph, I can't help but laugh and smile when I look at it. oh memories
1 comment:
all three of these photos just warmed me from the inside out.
except my hands are still frozen.
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