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Frog Poem by Sylvia Plath


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Frog Poem by Sylvia Plath

 

Frog Autumn

Summer grows old, cold-blooded mother.
The insects are scant, skinny.
In these palustral homes we only
Croak and wither.

Mornings dissipate in somnolence.
The sun brightens tardily
Among the pithless reeds. Flies fail us.
he fen sickens.

Frost drops even the spider. Clearly
The genius of plenitude
Houses himself elsewhwere. Our folk thin
Lamentably.
***

Back to Sylvia Plath Poems

Thank you for visitingFrog Poem by Sylvia Plath. We hope you have enjoyed the poetry. You may visit other Sylvia Plath poems here:
Balloons
Poppies in July
A Birthday Present
Night Shift
An Appearance
Last Words
Prologue to Spring
Last Words
Frog
Dialogue Between Ghost and Priest

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