Tweets,

I'm on sabbatical, and so finding more time than usual to read stuff I might
not otherwise see. I recently came across what I think is a real gem in a
poem by Ted Hughes, in 'Lupercal', published 1960. I don't want to violate
copyrights so here's part of the poem:

Hawk Roosting

I sit in the top of the wood, my eyes closed.
Inaction, no falsifying dream
Between my hooked head and hooked feet:
Or in sleep rehearse perfect kills and eat.

The convenience of the high trees!
The air's buoyancy and the sun's ray
Are of advantage to me;
And the earth's face upward for my inspection.

My feet are locked upon the rough bark.
It took the whole of Creation
To produce my foot, my each feather:
Now I hold Creation in my foot

Or fly up, and revolve it all slowly -
I kill where I please because it is all mine.
There is no sophistry in my body:
My manners are tearing off heads -

....

There's a bit more; if you like it you should check our your library's
poetry collection.

Tom Besser
Edinburgh, Scotland, for now
Moscow Idaho, for later
tbkp3 at aol.com