Yaddo: The Grand Manor, by Sylvia Plath

26 January 2013

It’s been cold outside for weeks now – that’s ok, it’s winter. But here, Plath demonstrates how, seen from this side, late autumn can be a wonderful time – even if very few of us actually have any sense of ‘bringing in’ produce straight from the field to the house…

//

Woodsmoke and a distant loudspeaker
Filter into this clear
Air, and blur.

The red tomato’s in, the green bean;
The cook lugs a pumpkin
From the vine

For pies. The fir tree’s thick with grackles.
Gold carp loom in the pools.
A wasp crawls

Over windfalls to sip cider-juice.
Guests in the studios
Muse, compose.

Indoors, Tiffany’s phoenix rises
Above the fireplace;
Two carved sleighs

Rest on orange plush near the newel post.
Wood stoves burn warm as toast.
The late guest

Wakens, mornings, to a cobalt sky,
A diamond-paned window,
Zinc-white snow.

[Read in Collected Poems, published by Faber & Faber. Ripped from http://allpoetry.com/poem/8497939-Yaddo__The_Grand_Manor-by-Sylvia_Plath]

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