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User Rating:
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5.8
/10
(19 votes)
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So what use was poetry
to a white empty house?
Wolf, swan, hare,
in by the fire.
And when your tree
crashed through your house,
what use then
was all your power?
It was the use of you.
It was the flower.
Jean Valentine
| Submitted Date |
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Monday, January 13, 2003 |
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Read poems about / on: poetry, house, flower, power, tree, fire
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Comments about this poem (To Plath, To Sexton
by
Jean Valentine
) |
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Seán O' Muiriosa (1/13/2006 4:38:00 PM)
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I'm not very knowledgeable about Sexton but I have studied Plath with great interest. A sad existance and ending to her life... You're poem is excellent, very fitting.
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David Gerardino (10/20/2005 11:15:00 PM)
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I just finished reading the poems of PLATH, and SEXTAN, the ending of there life is sad, but true....................any way great job...........
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