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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 (2)

Sheep In Fog

Sylvia Plath

The hills step off into whiteness.
People or stars
Regard me sadly, I disappoint them.

The train leaves a line of breath.
O slow
Horse the colour of rust,

Hooves, dolorous bells ----
All morning the
Morning has been blackening,

A flower left out.
My bones hold a stillness, the far
Fields melt my heart.

They threaten
To let me through to a heaven
Starless and fatherless, a dark water.

Added: 7 Sep 2001 | Last Read: 12 Oct 2008 1:25 PM | Viewed: 9912 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/1429/ | Viewed on 12 October 2008.
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