11 February 2013

On the 50th Anniversary of the Death of Sylvia Plath













Thou shalt have an everlasting
Monday and stand in the moon.


This is the silence of astounded souls.



A smile fell in the grass.



Breath, that is the first thing. Something is breathing. My own breath? The breath of my mother? No, something else, something larger, farther, more serious, more weary.















5 comments:

Melanie Smith said...

Thinking of the woman and the words, thinking of all the she did, all that she was and all that she means to readers. Celebrating that she laughed, lived and wrote. Rereading some favourite pieces. Thank you Sylvia.

Anonymous said...

Beautiful, Steinberg. Just beautiful.

Anonymous said...

Woke up early in the morning from a nightmare about my front tooth coming out and little flies in my mouth... and then I suddenly realised it's this day... I don't celebrate any Sylvia's dates though I'm a lover of her art. Strange... 'The bees are flying. They're tasting the spring.'

Kristina Zimbakova said...

STEINBERG, STUPENDOUS POST. SILENCE.

Peter K Steinberg said...

Thank you, Kristina!!!

pks

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