Rereading Sylvia Plath

I saw a girl at China Joe’s
facing no one
but her own reflection

Before her lay
the newly bought
the barely opened
paperback edition

Before her lay
the newly bought
the barely opened
notebook

Did she write to comment?
I guess she sat
to bring the spirits in

Her glass untouched
and stilled in motion
she conjured
with pencil
a reincarnation

I did not break her spell
her premonition
I did not seize the book
I know so well
how endings lie