She wrote this poem during the month of her 30th birthday, same as “Daddy,” “Ariel,” and many of the other poems that would become famous through her posthumously published collection, Ariel.
Of this month of extraordinary productivity, literary critic (and Plath’s friend) A. Alvarez has remarked:
The poems had become unstoppable. She had kind of hit that mother lode, you know, like Brent oil or something. She’d gone through and found the reservoir. She was writing poems of an order that seemed to me quite extraordinary for this century….She was writing two or three a day, as though she’d tapped the mother lode to end all mother lodes of her creativity.
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