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

Landowners

Sylvia Plath

From my rented attic with no earth
To call my own except the air-motes,
I malign the leaden perspective
Of identical gray brick houses,
Orange roof-tiles, orange chimney pots,
And see that first house, as if between
Mirrors, engendering a spectral
Corridor of inane replicas,
Flimsily peopled.
                  But landowners
Own thier cabbage roots, a space of stars,
Indigenous peace. Such substance makes
My eyeful of reflections a ghost's
Eyeful, which, envious,would define
Death as striking root on one land-tract;
Life, its own vaporous wayfarings.

Added: 7 Sep 2001 | Last Read: 19 Nov 2018 7:47 PM | Viewed: 7640 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/1406/ | Viewed on 19 November 2018.
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