An Ode
Hearing and feeling Sylvia Plath
her poems on my Mp3
when I walk the streets
in a desolate night in May
She sounds as a roaring thunder
blasts the mind of me
she, talking about the enemies
nazis of the second world war
and touching things dark
with great mind and breath
I saw trees in full bloom
painting the path so fine
in Landskrona, small town
in the south of the west swedish coast
looking in a clear day over
to Hamlets castle
and far away also mesmerized
by the sight of the bridge between Copenhagen
and Malmö
and in that state, I wait for the night
to hear all mighty Sylvia Plath.
Poetry by Ivan R
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Written on 2014-05-13 at 01:19
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sylvier |
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