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.

by Ted Hughes

Comments (8)

I LOVE THIS POEM! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
What a great poem, about life, a true understanding of the human condition and the events of time, I think this poem has made me understand and about writing free verse no rhyme just wisdom.
Excellent.
amen! is all that comes to mind after reading this profound thought....what a great observational thought stream captured by a very bright man, and excellent poet....a tribute to the limitless possibilities of words, searing silence....profound beyond description...joy to read
Wow! i am touched by the silence.Thank you.
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