Child …by Silvia Plath

Your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing.

I want to fill it with color and ducks,

the zoo of the new

Whose names you meditate–

April snowdrop, Indian pipe,

Little

Stalk without wrinkle,

Pool in which images

should be grand and classical

Not this troublous

wringing of hands, this dark

ceiling without a star.

Thoughts:

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