"Little poppies, little hell flames,
Do you do no harm?
You flicker. I cannot touch you.
I put my hands among the flames. Nothing burns.
And it exhausts me to watch you
Flickering like that, wrinkly and clear red, like the skin of a mouth."
- from "Poppies in July" by Sylvia Plath
2 comments:
Oh yes!
!!!!
We have a bunch more ready to pop open and sadly crinkle away.
Sometimes a poem can really come to life when you see the thing described in person. I find this very true to Plath's poetry (this should be a surprise to anyone). How she can take a flower, a tree, a row of headstones, a trip to her father's grave, what have you and transform it into such a piece of art. But, the foundation is her life. It is always there behind the creative works, informing it. Sometimes you can really almost touch it.
pks
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