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September 19th, 2014 - we have 234 poets, 8,025 poems and 278,943 comments.
Sylvia Plath - Frog Autumn

Summer grows old, cold-blooded mother. 
The insects are scant, skinny. 
In these palustral homes we only 
Croak and wither. 

Mornings dissipate in somnolence. 
The sun brightens tardily 
Among the pithless reeds. Flies fail us. 
he fen sickens. 

Frost drops even the spider. Clearly 
The genius of plenitude 
Houses himself elsewhwere. Our folk thin 
Lamentably.

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Added: May 7 2003 | Viewed: 1308 times | Comments and analysis of Frog Autumn by Sylvia Plath Comments (24)

Frog Autumn - Comments and Information

Poet: Sylvia Plath
Poem: Frog Autumn
Poem of the Day: Mar 25 2004

Comment 24 of 24, added on August 4th, 2014 at 5:15 PM.
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Comment 23 of 24, added on August 3rd, 2014 at 3:38 PM.
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Comment 22 of 24, added on July 18th, 2014 at 11:40 AM.
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KSh3BS Thanks for the blog article. Keep writing.

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