Sylvia Plath

Go Get The Goodly Squab

Go get the goodly squab in gold-lobed corn And pluck the droll-flecked quail where thick they lie; Reap the round blue pigeon from roof ridge, But let the fast-feathered eagle fly. Let the fast-feathered eagle fly And the skies crack through with thunder; Hide, hide, in the deep nest Lest the lightning strike you to cinder. Go snare the sleeping bear in leaf-lined den And trap the muskrat napping in slack sun; Dupe the dull sow lounging snout in mud, But let the galloping antelope run. Let the galloping antelope run And the snow blow up behind; Hide, hide, in the safe cave Lest the blizzard drive you blind. Go cull the purple snails from slothful shells And bait the drowsing trout by the brook's brim; Gather idle oysters from green shoals, But let the quicksilver mackerel swim. Let the quicksilver mackerel swim Where the black wave topples down; Hide, hide, in the warm port Lest the water drag you to drown.