This is one of Plath's better poems, and it draws together many of the images that she uses in her other poems. The moon is an obvious one; and of course the moon is an overused object in poetry as a whole, but in this poem Plath really manages to make it an object of fascination, with its "o-gape of complete despair". Also the images of the night--the 'blue garments unloosing the bats and owls', the 'clouds flowering blue and mystical over the face of the stars' are exceptionally vivid and deep, and romantic. A wonderful, haunting peice is this poem, it tugs at the depths of my subconscious mind.
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