I am mean about Ted Hughes. On reading his poems my first thought is usually “Yeah yeah, whatever, shut up.”
This may be unfair but it’s true.
I like this one though, even though I find it so very irritating that shrunk and clank don’t rhyme when it would have been so easy. He must have had a reason, right?
Full Moon and Little Frieda
A cool small evening shrunk to a dog bark and the clank of a bucket –
And you listening.
A spider’s web, tense for the dew’s touch.
A pail lifted, still and brimming – mirror
To tempt a first star to a tremor.
Cows are going home in the lane there, looping the hedges with their warm wreaths of breath –
A dark river of blood, many boulders,
Balancing unspilled milk.
‘Moon!’ you cry suddenly, ‘Moon! Moon!’
The moon has stepped back like an artist gazing amazed at a work
That points at him amazed.