Sleepwalking she prepared breakfast
for her still dreaming children, before
breaking fast, to satisfy her appetite
no fire needed, she all-consuming flame
bravely cowered on the kitchen floor
and slaked an antique thirst on vapor
laying her dream-tormented head to rest
she took premature or belated leave, set
out to sea, having found no harbor here.
To Sylvia Plath
written byYahia Lababidi
© Yahia Lababidi