Frog Autumn

Album cover art for "Frog Autumn" by Sylvia Plath

Sylvia Plath - Non-Music, Poetry (Literature)

Frog Autumn

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Summer grows old, cold-blooded mother. The insects are scant, skinny. In these palustral homes we only Croak and wither. Mornings dissipate in somnolence. The sun brightens tardily Among the pithless reeds. Flies fail us. The fen sickens. Frost drops even the spider. Clearly The genius of plenitude Houses himself elsewhere. Our folk thin Lamentably.

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Credits

Writers
  • Sylvia Plath