The Daffodils

The daffodils wipe their yellow curtains On the sparkling river with joy, They slip down at dusk, tossing secret glances That flash at the moon’s sober scorn.

They pat the budding grass, thrill with light, Take to the winds, drift like tissues, Past glowing hills, beheading the harsh droplights, They momentarily vanish in a swish.

Tonight when the scent travels past the street, I sink deep in layers of spring-bloom: While shadows linger licking the past, My lost innocence below the flowered hearts!

They rise dim beneath, scented like oblivion, Where nothing is merely the touch of breathing, But supple flares dangle in the black, While taller guys vanish as fluffy shadows.

Amidst carefree winds, flickering life breaks live, Racing in sunlight, forgetting a world, a trail, Where every lip serves light a secret, spring of warm laughter, unknowing until further still.

• Ted Hughes