Gold Mouths Cry:
Gold mouths cry with the green young
certainty of the bronze boy
remembering a thousand autumns
and how a hundred thousand leaves
came sliding down his shoulder blades
persuaded by his bronze heroic reason.
We ignore the coming doom of gold
and we are glad in this bright metal season.
Even the dead laugh among the goldenrod.
The bronze boy stands knee deep in centuries,
and never grieves,
remembering a thousand autumns,
with sunlight of a thousand years upon his lips
and his eyes gone blind with leaves.
~~ Sylvia Plath ~~
Within Sylvia`s imagination resided the leaves of a thousand autumns fluttering down and covering the thoughts of lost love and happiness. Like the ancient statue, she feels the gentle touch of past memories lay upon her body, happy in the eternal warmth of youthful summer days; blind to the passing of time and the aged, inhabitants of a foreign country.