Sylvia Plath

“My poems do not turn out to be about Hiroshima, but about a child forming itself finger by finger in the dark.  They are not about the terrors of mass extinction, but about the bleakness of the moon over a yew tree in a neighboring graveyard … In a sense, these poems are deflections.  I do not think they are an escape.”

– Sylvia Plath

2 thoughts on “Sylvia Plath

  1. Michelle Post author

    The description of “a child forming itself finger by finger in the dark” reminds me of the beginning of Mushrooms:

    Overnight, very
    Whitely, discreetly,
    Very quietly

    Our toes, our noses
    Take hold on the loam,
    Acquire the air.

    Nobody sees us,
    Stops us, betrays us;

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