Living beyond

Living beyond.
Written at the Blue Angel, Windermere

Sylvia, why do you speak to me
Forever 31, while I am 33.
Is it that plane where

we live, together,
you and I
In sisterhood?

What becomes of me
Because you left,

Of what life was
Or what life had become?
We never lived

together, for you
were 13 years
In Mother earth

before my tender feet
hit terra firma
But our kindred

ship is close
And I reach out
Through time

And grasp your hand
Wishing you had
Dared to live.

I feel I would be
If you were alive

As a guide
To this illness
And though the

napkin is removed
we still see the

That was your words.
And now Nick
joins you,

Not escaping your
genetic generosity.
No longer chasing

Dreams of a place
Where we find

1 comment:

Adele Ward said...

This if fabulous, Tory, and gave me tingles. The short lines and direct comments right to Sylvia and to us really work. This subject is very close to me because Plath was just about the only female poet we had as a role model when I was a teenager so I did wish for someone who could show us how to live as a writer, and with that depression many writers suffer. You really get all of that across plus the way a poem reaches out and touches us as if that poet is saying it to us at that moment, as if we know them.

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