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Childless Woman Poem by Sylvia Plath


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Childless Woman Poem by Sylvia Plath

 

Childless Woman


The womb
Rattles its pod, the moon
Discharges itself from the tree with nowhere to go.

My landscape is a hand with no lines,
The roads bunched to a knot,
The knot myself,

Myself the rose you acheive---
This body,
This ivory

Ungodly as a child's shriek.
Spiderlike, I spin mirrors,
Loyal to my image,

Uttering nothing but blood---
Taste it, dark red!
And my forest

My funeral,
And this hill and this
Gleaming with the mouths of corpses.
***

 

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Thank you for visitingChildless Woman Poem by Sylvia Plath. We hope you have enjoyed the poetry. You may visit other Sylvia Plath poems here:
Man in Black
For a Fatherless Son by Sylvia Plath
Sleep in the Mojave Desert
Prologue to Spring
Balloons
Moonrise
Sylvia Plath Poetry Readings
The Everlasting Monday
Southern Sunrise
Sylvia Plath Poetry Readings

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