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Old 02-20-2005, 05:29 PM   #5
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Join Date: May 2004
Location: l mn
Posts: 13,853
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 -

the allotment of death.
for the one path of my flight is direct
through the bones of the living.
no arguments assert my right:

the sun is behind me.
nothing has changed since I began.
my eye has permitted no change.
i am going to keep things like this.

ted hughes 1960


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