Today I finished reading the Bell Jar as an assignment for my feminist literature course, and I decided to look this poem up, remembering that it has always been one of my favorites. After reading it nearly ten times in the last hour, I love it more than I did even when it was something fresh and new to me. I value and admire this one work of Sylvia's more than I value any other poet's work, more than my own, more than anyone else's collectively. She was a wonderful, brilliant, talented woman.
Like Casey, I've just started exploring Sylvia's poetry, and I have to agree; it's amazing. This and Metaphors are probably my favourite poems of hers that I've read so far.
I love this because it really speaks to me, and it's just such a wonderful piece of writing.