The Great Starry Void
The sheltering sky, the devouring vastness.
The eye wants to sleep but the head is no mattress.
What words are there to tell how long a night can be?
Drunk with love, I wander in the dark.
The hills step off into whiteness.
People or stars
Regard me sadly, I disappoint them.
Sylvia Plath, from “Sheep in Fog” (via