Tuesday poem: a reassemblage of first lines from the “Earth-Numb” section of Ted Hughes’ Moortown

12 Mar
When he crept back, searching for
Dawn -- a smoldering fume of dry frost,
Promised by her looks, is saving up

The tiger kills hungry, The machine guns
He has not yet been cut.
She gives him his eyes, she found them

He gazed round, the tall young German at the jetty,
Pain was pulled down over his eyes like a fool’s hat.
And here
We had a motorbike all through the war

Each new moment my eyes
Stirs its ashes and embers, its burnt sticks
Sits in the bar corner -- being bought

Through roofless Gulf cellars
Death is also trying to be life.
No came from the earth

I woke in the bed of the Rains
He looked at her but he could not see her face.
You open the door

(Find a copy of these poems and read them. The book, our favorite of Hughes’ oeuvre,  is unfortunately out of print.)

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