To Plath, To Sexton

So what use was poetry
to a white empty house?

Wolf, swan, hare,
in by the fire.

And when your tree
crashed through your house,

what use then
was all your power?

It was the use of you.
It was the flower.

From THE RIVER AT WOLF (Alice James Books, 1992)


Poems by Jean Valentine

Dream Barker

Elegy For Jane Kenyon (2)

To Plath, To Sexton