Nick and the Candlestick BY SYLVIA PLATH I am a miner. The light burns blue. Waxy stalactites Drip and thicken, tears The earthen womb Exudes from its dead boredom. Black bat airs Wrap me, raggy shawls, Cold homicides. They weld…devamı
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In this poem, a mother nurses her baby son by candelight and finds in him a beautify which, while it…devamıIn this poem, a mother nurses her baby son by candelight and finds in him a beautify which, while it may not ward off the world’s ill, does redeem her share of it.
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