it is not really snowing but i read this poem by sylvia plath and decided to find a picture and show a few lines and neither have i seen any tulips

The tulips are too excitable, it is winter here.
Look how white everything is, how quiet, how snowed-in
I am learning peacefulness, lying by myself quietly
As the light lies on these white walls, this bed, these hands.
I am nobody; I have nothing to do with explosions.

No comments: