Ravens By Ted Hughes

Ravens By Ted Hughes As we came through the gate to look at the few new lambs On the skyline of lawn smoothness, A raven bundled itself into air from midfield And slid away under hard glistenings, low and guilty. Sheep nibbling, kneeling to nibble the reluctant nibbled grass. Sheep staring, their jaws pausing to […]

The Thought Fox By Ted Hughes

The Thought Fox By Ted Hughes I imagine this midnight moment’s forest: Something else is alive Beside the clock’s loneliness And this blank page where my fingers move. Through the window I see no star: Something more near Though deeper within darkness Is entering the loneliness: Cold, delicately as the dark snow A fox’s nose […]

The Hawk In The Rain By Ted Hughes

The Hawk In The Rain By Ted Hughes I drown in the drumming ploughland, I drag up Heel after heel from the swallowing of the earth’s mouth, From clay that clutches my each step to the ankle With the habit of the dogged grave, but the hawk Effortlessly at height hangs his still eye. His […]

Crisien Katshi - Untitled

A Pink Wool Knitted Dress By Ted Hughes

A Pink Wool Knitted Dress By Ted Hughes In your pink wool knitted dress Before anything had smudged anything You stood at the altar. Bloomsday. Rain – so that a just-bought umbrella Was the only furnishing about me Newer than three years inured. My tie – sole, drab, veteran RAF black – Was the used-up […]

The Thought-Fox By Ted Hughes

The Thought-Fox By Ted Hughes I imagine this midnight moment’s forest:Something else is aliveBeside the clock’s lonelinessAnd this blank page where my fingers move. Through the window I see no star:Something more nearThough deeper within darknessIs entering the loneliness: Cold, delicately as the dark snowA fox’s nose touches twig, leaf;Two eyes serve a movement, that […]

The Hawk In The Rain By Ted Hughes

The Hawk In The Rain By Ted Hughes I drown in the drumming ploughland, I drag up Heel after heel from the swallowing of the earth’s mouth, From clay that clutches my each step to the ankle With the habit of the dogged grave, but the hawk Effortlessly at height hangs his still eye. His wings hold […]