For A Fatherless Son

Sylvia Plath

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You will be aware of an absence, presently,
Growing beside you, like a tree,
A death tree, color gone, an Australian gum tree ---
Balding, gelded by lightning--an illusion,
And a sky like a pig's backside, an utter lack of attention.
But right now you are dumb.
And I love your stupidity,
The blind mirror of it. I look in
And find no face but my own, and you think that's funny.
It is good for me
To have you grab my nose, a ladder rung.
One day you may touch what's wrong ---
The small skulls, the smashed blue hills, the godawful hush.
Till then your smiles are found money.

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Comments1
  • micah2400

    I remember readin this piece when I was younger, gave me chills. Just se simple but yet so deep. It hits you in a way you don't expect, like right in the heart. Nostalgia is one heluva drug, ain't it? Writing like this just ain't around no more, sadly.