writing – Page 12 – That Terry

The Eye-mote by Sylvia Plath

February 22, 2013May 4, 2020 Author

Blameless as daylight I stood looking At a field of horses, necks bent, manes blown, Tails streaming against the green Backdrop of sycamores. Sun was striking White chapel pinnacles over the roofs, Holding the horses, the clouds, the leaves Steadily rooted though they were all flowing Away to the left like reeds in a sea When the splinter flew in and stuck my eye,…

Birthday Poem For My Grandmother – Sharon Olds

January 14, 2013May 4, 2020 Author

I stood on the porch tonight–which way do we face to talk to the dead? I thought of the new rose, and went out over the grey lawn–things really have no color at night. I descended the stones, as if to the place where one speaks to the dead. The rose stood half-uncurled, glowing white in the black air. Later I remembered your birthday. You…