Thursday, 26 January 2017

The Thought Fox

Rien Poortvliet

The Thought Fox

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 touches twig, leaf;
Two eyes serve a movement, that now
And again now, and now, and now

Sets neat prints into the snow
Between trees, and warily a lame
Shadow lags by stump and in hollow
Of a body that is bold to come

Across clearings, an eye,

A widening deepening greenness,
Brilliantly, concentratedly,
Coming about its own business

Till, with a sudden sharp hot stink of fox

It enters the dark hole of the head.

The window is starless still; the clock ticks,

The page is printed.

Ted Hughes


"Something else is alive" - I love that. "Something more near..is entering the loneliness." This poem is perfect - the image, the rhythm, the concept - they fit together seamlessly, it really is as if the poem were an already-formed animal that had its own purposes and simply entered the head of the poet as it was passing through.




 


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