Don Pearson

(12/01/1950 / England)

Sylvia


(For Julia Howe)

As I celebrated my own dissociation
from Independence Day celebration,
a voice spoke to me,
across five decades,
from her Winter in 1963.

She called my name,
with the edgy clarity
of a pheasant in a snowfield,
bored herself into my brain
like crackling
shards of ice
or broken marble.

When I asked why she wanted me,
she replied that everyone needs
a mirror.

Submitted: Saturday, July 13, 2013
Edited: Saturday, July 13, 2013
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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Written after a Poetry Teignmouth evening on Sylvia Plath.

-


5th July 2013

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