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More poems by Sylvia PlathSylvia Plath | Print this page.Print | Order a PoetryNotes Analysis of this poem.Analysis | View and Write CommentsComments (1)

Conversation Among The Ruins

Sylvia Plath

Through portico of my elegant house you stalk
With your wild furies, disturbing garlands of fruit
And the fabulous lutes and peacocks, rending the net
Of all decorum which holds the whirlwind back.
Now, rich order of walls is fallen; rooks croak
Above the appalling ruin; in bleak light
Of your stormy eye, magic takes flight
Like a daunted witch, quitting castle when real days break.

Fractured pillars frame prospects of rock;
While you stand heroic in coat and tie, I sit
Composed in Grecian tunic and psyche-knot,
Rooted to your black look, the play turned tragic:
Which such blight wrought on our bankrupt estate,
What ceremony of words can patch the havoc?

Added: 7 Sep 2001 | Last Read: 24 May 2012 4:35 AM | Viewed: 13584 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/1386/ | Viewed on 24 May 2012.
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