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More poems by Sylvia PlathSylvia Plath | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments (1) | Books by Sylvia PlathBooks by Sylvia Plath

Aftermath

Sylvia Plath

Compelled by calamity's magnet
They loiter and stare as if the house
Burnt-out were theirs, or as if they thought
Some scandal might any minute ooze
From a smoke-choked closet into light;
No deaths, no prodigious injuries
Glut these hunters after an old meat,
Blood-spoor of the austere tragedies.

Mother Medea in a green smock
Moves humbly as any housewife through
Her ruined apartments, taking stock
Of charred shoes, the sodden upholstery:
Cheated of the pyre and the rack,
The crowd sucks her last tear and turns away.

Added: 7 Sep 2001 | Last Read: 21 Apr 2018 12:11 AM | Viewed: 20457 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/1373/ | Viewed on 20 April 2018.
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