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Sylvia Plath - Winter Trees

The wet dawn inks are doing their blue dissolve.
On their blotter of fog the trees
Seem a botanical drawing --
Memories growing, ring on ring,
A series of weddings.

Knowing neither abortions nor bitchery,
Truer than women,
They seed so effortlessly!
Tasting the winds, that are footless,
Waist-deep in history --

Full of wings, otherworldliness.
In this, they are Ledas.
O mother of leaves and sweetness
Who are these pietàs?
The shadows of ringdoves chanting, but chasing nothing.

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Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 45 times | Comments and analysis of Winter Trees by Sylvia Plath Comments (265)

Winter Trees - Comments and Information

Poet: Sylvia Plath
Poem: Winter Trees
Volume: The Collected Poems
Year: Published/Written in 1962
Poem of the Day: Sep 2 2011

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