Ted Hughes
The Snowdrop

Now is the globe shrunk tight,
Round the mouse’s dulled wintering heart.
Weasel and crow, as if moulded in brass,
Move through an outer darkness,
Not in their right minds, with the other deaths, she, too, pursues her ends,
Brutal as the stars of this month,
Her pale head, heavy as metal.

#Poetry #Literature #TedHughes

You can’t read through Ted Hughes - Birthday letters and not well up #poetry #TedHughes #SylviaPlath #literature

The Heron, a wintery #poem by #TedHughes, from his collected animal poems. ❄️