"Words"   by Sylvia Plath


After whose stroke the wood rings,
And the echoes!
Echoes traveling
Off from the center like horses.
The sap
Wells like tears, like the
Water striving
To re-establish its mirror
Over the rock

That drops and turns,
A white skull,
Eaten by weedy greens.

Years later I
Encounter them on the road---

Words dry and riderless,
The indefatigable hoof-taps.

>From the bottom of the pool, fixed stars
Govern a life.


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Center for Service Leadership

"Providing Leadership Consultation and Training for Clarkson Faculty, Staff, and Students"

Art Bell, PhD Director

Snell 137