Ophelia

 

Ophelia was only twenty-two.

They say she drowned in a small brook.

A branch broke and dropped her.

Unlikely – both the branch and the shallow brook.

She was sad. Perhaps, mad.

The brook, to the river, to the sea.

Not death but part of something larger.

Fresh water. Salt.

At the Beach with Sylvia Plath

Photo of Sylvia Plath from Gordon Ames Lameyer Papers probably from the Summer of 1953.

Sylvia Plath during a beach holiday in 1953, three years before she met Ted Hughes, and 10 years before her death. (photo from the Gordon Ames Lameyer Papers)

Even some who never read your poetry,

know about your suicide, troubled marriage, depression,

and life in the bell jar vacuum.

This cold day, I see you young,

a happy, blonde dream on a beach.

 

Vincent

At 37 and depressed, Vincent shot himself.
Probably. No witnesses. In the wheat field
that he was painting much of late.
The bullet deflected passed through his chest
without much damage. He smoked his pipe.
Not a fatal shot but an infection.
He said “The sadness will last forever.”

van gogh