February 12, 1963
On a day cloaked in the chill of February’s grasp,A voice was stilled, its echo vast.1963, the year, the world would come to mourn,The day Sylvia Plath’s legacy was reborn.Her words, like sharp icicles, hang in the air,Revealing depths of despair, stark and bare.A poet’s soul, both haunted and free,Found solace in verses, for the…