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More poems by Ted HughesTed Hughes | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments | Books by Ted HughesBooks by Ted Hughes

Thistles

Ted Hughes

Against the rubber tongues of cows and the hoeing hands of men
Thistles spike the summer air
And crackle open under a blue-black pressure.

Every one a revengeful burst
Of resurrection, a grasphed fistful
Of splintered weapons and Icelandic frost thrust up

From the underground stain of a decayed Viking.
They are like pale hair and the gutturals of dialects.
Every one manages a plume of blood.

Then they grow grey like men.
Mown down, it is a feud. Their sons appear
Stiff with weapons, fighting back over the same ground.


Submitted by John Paul Hampstead

Added: 1 Apr 2002 | Last Read: 22 Apr 2018 12:15 PM | Viewed: 14437 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/4304/ | Viewed on 22 April 2018.
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