There, spring lambs jam the sheepfold. In air
Stilled, silvered as water in a glass
Nothing is big or far.
The small shrew chitters from its wilderness
Of grassheads and is heard.
Each thumb-size bird
Flits nimble-winged in thickets, and of good colour.
Cloudrack and owl-hollowed willows…
- Sylvia Plath
Wednesday, 2 June 2010
Pretty Things
Posted by Paige at 15:17
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