Farther out, the waves will be mouthing icecakes – A poor month for park-sleepers and lovers. Even our shadows are blue with cold. We wanted to see the sun come up And are met, instead, by this iceribbed ship, Bearded and blown, an albatross of frost, Relic of tough weather, every winch and stay Encased in a glassy pellicle. The.

Sylvia Plath Quotes

Privacy Policy   7.70ms  0.70MB