Wintering : : By Sylvia Plath This is the easy time, there is nothing doing.I have whirled the midwife’s extractor,I have my honey,Six jars of it,Six cat’s eyes in the wine cellar, Wintering in a dark without windowAt the heart of the houseNext to the last tenant’s rancid jamand the bottles of empty glitters–Sir So-and-so’sContinue reading “Wintering : Sylvia Plath : : Winter Poems : :”