Poems

Incommunicado

The groundhog on the mountain did not run
But fatly scuttled into the splayed fern
And faced me, back to a ledge of dirt, to rattle
Her sallow rodent teeth like castanets
Against my leaning down, would not exchange
For that wary clatter sound or gesture
Of love : claws braced, at bay, my currency not hers.

Such meetings never occur in marchen
Where love-met groundhogs love one in return,
Where straight talk is the rule, whether warm or hostile,
Which no gruff animal misinterprets.
From what grace am I fallen. Tongues are strange,
Signs say nothing. The falcon who spoke clear
To Canacee cries gibberish to coarsened ears.



Poem topics: , ,

Rate this poem:

Add Incommunicado poem to your favorites

Add Poet Sylvia Plath to your favorites

Popular Poets

Allen Ginsberg (2 poems)
Margaret Vandegrift (1 poems)
Sugawara Takesue no Musume (4 poems)
Alice Milligan (1 poems)
Linda Pastan (3 poems)
Arthur Seymour John Tessimond (2 poems)
George Barker (4 poems)
David O'Bruaidar (1 poems)
Thomas Augustine Daly (2 poems)
Anna Hempstead Branch (6 poems)

Popular Poems

Lass Of Cessnock Banks, The, by Robert Burns
Warm in her Hand these accents lie, by Emily Dickinson
To A Lady, by George Gordon Byron
You May Have Other Loves,, by Lesbia Harford
To His Honoured And Most Ingenious Friend Mr. Charles Cotton, by Robert Herrick
My Longshore Lass, by Lucy Maud Montgomery
Freedom, by Archibald Lampman
Gud Hellig-Aand! opfyld med Lyst, by Nicolaj Frederik Severin Grundtvig
A Woman Waits For Me, by Walt Whitman
On a Vulgar Error, by Clive Staples Lewis