Thursday, September 13, 2007

"7 Months"

The swans are gone. Still the river
Remembers how white they were.
It strives after them with its lights.
It finds their shapes in a cloud.
What is that bird that cries
With such sorrow in its voice?
I am young as ever, it says. What is it I miss?

- Sylvia Plath

Posted by June and Norma at 9:58 PM |