"Words" by Sylvia Plath
Axes 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.
Center for Service Leadership
"Providing Leadership Consultation and Training for Clarkson Faculty, Staff, and Students"
Art Bell, PhD Director