At this wharf there are no grand landings to speak of.
Red and orange barges list and blister
Shackled to the dock, outmoded, gaudy,
And apparently indestructible.
The sea pulses under a skin of oil.
...
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I could not see my comments here, so once again: Sylvia Plath in full: ordinary language, direct, in poetic form tells a normal daily activity on the wharf, what flies over it,
described poetically as we can read here. Very nuanced and exquisite! 5 Stars full
The events here on the shipyard described in detail, more sober than poetic and straightforward, as befits Sylvia Plath. She is a master of the ordinary events of life,
A magnificent poem so beautifully written embellished with sterling images. A poetic gem.
what sails at sea, everyday worries on a wharf, does not happen that much, says the poetess, but still tells they depict the scenes in detail, you notice. It is wintertime, since there are ice ridges on the ship. I really enjoyed this narrative poem.5 stars to the full