One cry, and I stumble from bed, cow-heavy and floral
In my Victorian nightgown.
Your mouth opens clean as a cat's. The window square
Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you try
Your handful of notes;
The clear vowels rise like balloons.
(It's about a young mother rising in the morning to see to her baby.)
Well spotted, Milieu!
Flattering to think so many of you thought I wrote it.
Sylvia Plath, one of the greatest expononts of free verse, was the authoress.
Milieu has given the whole poem.
In my Victorian nightgown.
Your mouth opens clean as a cat's. The window square
Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you try
Your handful of notes;
The clear vowels rise like balloons.
(It's about a young mother rising in the morning to see to her baby.)
Well spotted, Milieu!
Flattering to think so many of you thought I wrote it.
Sylvia Plath, one of the greatest expononts of free verse, was the authoress.
Milieu has given the whole poem.