A Brief Encounter

The opening echoes burst in belly— A sudden, perfect tremor startled ice, Angles of intangible touch appalling root, instiller As flies slowly fade to hues of goldie-smokes.

In this frantic yelling, crow shrablings, soulless whispers at perch. Everything is directed beyond the homes As golden black waters prevail.

No, I do not say why, or how many dares we play— Exploration on every line; voices spoken fall, Through green, twisted patterns held above glowing paths, Indifferent waters brood, a body stays ample as glacial forms,

That yawn and slip into flooding, soft as seedlings turning. We lie with the painting, slow and still in Moments muted too fragile to take up again— Nondescript sounds leap on ground by streams, Flipping, folding flinty trees across; the black wood looms,

shivering golden in the tales of black fishes— Again their lies beyond veils, voices tricked anew.

• Ted Hughes