Walking from school

 

The walk from school

 

Walking home

from school

with a friend.

She golden

wrinkled haired

laughed smiled

I remember

her green eyes

the same year

Sylvia Plath

died alone.

The gas oven.

Town gas.

And she walked

home from school

to find her mother

lying down there

on the kitchen floor.

And Jackie

Had gone too.

 

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