Sylvia's Book Poem by Patti Masterman
Sylvia's Book
I want to eat the yellow poetry book
she wrote, every bright morning's sun
looking on while I attempt to devour
everything of hers within reach, which isn't much
left unsullied by the whole world's touch.
I am hungry beyond hope of repair:
only her dusty words can possibly satisfy
the empty pit of my
obsessions.
Friday, October 26, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: book,morning,obsession,sun,sylvia plath,touch,world,yellow
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5/2/2024 9:42:19 AM # 1.0.0.1119
