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Found Poetry 890


the red sound of sirens
cherry blood on a stone
these seconds drip out
blood screaming in the dirt
a rusty hinge on the ground

cinder blood in the belly
valves and drains open
salt in the blood shipwrecked
the ceiling of the sky sags
red fists shake like flames

the reach is not pleasant
an arctic pain
we brace for the wind
red, again

This poem was created from Sylvia Plath's collected works. Click here to get a book of Plath's poems.

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