Burning The Letters Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEEFGCEHEII IIJEKLIMINOIMN IPQEIQERCESIII EITILIUOVOWXFC| I made a fire being tired | A |
| Of the white fists of old | B |
| Letters and their death rattle | C |
| When I came too close to the wastebasket | D |
| What did they know that I didn't | E |
| Grain by grain they unrolled | E |
| Sands where a dream of clear water | F |
| Grinned like a getaway car | G |
| I am not subtle | C |
| Love love and well I was tired | E |
| Of cardboard cartons the color of cement or a dog pack | H |
| Holding in it's hate | E |
| Dully under a pack of men in red jackets | I |
| And the eyes and times of the postmarks | I |
| - | |
| This fire may lick and fawn but it is merciless | I |
| A glass case | I |
| My fingers would enter although | J |
| They melt and sag they are told | E |
| Do not touch | K |
| And here is an end to the writing | L |
| The spry hooks that bend and cringe and the smiles the smiles | I |
| And at least it will be a good place now the attic | M |
| At least I won't be strung just under the surface | I |
| Dumb fish | N |
| With one tin eye | O |
| Watching for glints | I |
| Riding my Arctic | M |
| Between this wish and that wish | N |
| - | |
| So I poke at the carbon birds in my housedress | I |
| They are more beautiful than my bodiless owl | P |
| They console me | Q |
| Rising and flying but blinded | E |
| They would flutter off black and glittering they would be coal angels | I |
| Only they have nothing to say but anybody | Q |
| I have seen to that | E |
| With the butt of a rake | R |
| I flake up papers that breathe like people | C |
| I fan them out | E |
| Between the yellow lettuces and the German cabbage | S |
| Involved in it's weird blue dreams | I |
| Involved in a foetus | I |
| And a name with black edges | I |
| - | |
| Wilts at my foot | E |
| Sinuous orchis | I |
| In a nest of root hairs and boredom | T |
| Pale eyes patent leather gutturals | I |
| Warm rain greases my hair extinguishes nothing | L |
| My veins glow like trees | I |
| The dogs are tearing a fox This is what it is like | U |
| A read burst and a cry | O |
| That splits from it's ripped bag and does not stop | V |
| With that dead eye | O |
| And the stuffed expression but goes on | W |
| Dyeing the air | X |
| Telling the particles of the clouds the leaves the water | F |
| What immortality is That it is immortal | C |
Sylvia Plath
(1)
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About Burning The Letters
Burning The Letters is a poem by Sylvia Plath. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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