Since Christmas they have lived with us,
Guileless and clear,
Oval soul-animals,
Taking up half the space,
Moving and rubbing on the silkInvisible air drifts,
Giving a shriek and pop
When attacked, then scooting to rest, barely trembling.
Yellow cathead, blue fish--------
Such queer moons we live withInstead of dead furniture!
Straw mats, white walls
And these traveling
Globes of thin air, red, green,
DelightingThe heart like wishes or free
Peacocks blessing
Old ground with a feather
Beaten in starry metals.
Your smallBrother is making
His balloon squeak like a cat.
Seeming to see
A funny pink world he might eat on the other side of it,
He bites,Then sits
Back, fat jug
Contemplating a world clear as water.
A red
Shred in his little fist.
5 February 1963
YOU ARE READING
Sylvia Plath Poetry
PoetrySylvia Plath Poetry is a book filled with the content of Sylvia Plath's poems. Sylvia Plath was an American poet, novelist, and short story writer. Plath's work often was singled out for the intense coupling of its violent or disturbed imagery and...