My Plath

M. Diamond

Young lady
I carried you
folded the delicate aroma of you
made nervous my soul in search of you
and now you are here
In you her spirit slumbers
Touched by the same misery
And still like the lotus
Being planted amidst the fiercest flames
You carry that blood drop by drop, still

My Plath
There is no need to replay how fraught life can be
I hope you see the we
You, Her and Me
She is You
But I am not he
On the heels of love and ever shallow sympathy
Won’t make you push through brambles and poisonous leaves
You will be sung overtures
will swing mightily from
tall Oak trees
Robed in silk, your bosom ripening

My Plath My Plath
You -The exemplary woman
Nestled deep in my history