Monday, January 14, 2008

My Favorite Plath Poem

Morning Song

Love set you going like a fat gold watch.
The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry
Took its place among the elements.

Our voices echo, magnifying your arrival. New statue.
In a drafty museum, your nakedness
Shadows our safety. We stand round blankly as walls.

I'm no more your mother
Than the cloud that distils a mirror to reflect its own slow
Effacement at the wind's hand.

All night your moth-breath
Flickers among the flat pink roses. I wake to listen:
A far sea moves in my ear.

One cry, and I stumble from bed, cow-heavy and floral
In my Victorian nightgown.
Your mouth opens clean as a cat's. The window square

Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you try
Your handful of notes;
The clear vowels rise like balloons.


Minnesota Matron said...

I'm off to bed. But where are the gasps of joy for this poem? Maybe I am alone with this one... Sylvia?

JCK said...

This is lovely.

Minnesota Matron said...

Thank you! I am hopeless when I beg and scrape for comments. But I just melt in front of this poem.