Distance and Proximity

Do this: 
Google Ted Hughes hawk roosting
choose images: 
look carefully;
scroll down;
look slowly;
keep scrolling;
keep looking.
All the charts, 
pictures, 
explanations, 
presentations, 
diagrams, 
analyses --
none of them
-- not one --
approaches the power 
of the poem,
or 
of the bird.

Hunting Just Beyond the Deck

Hawk Roosting

by Ted Hughes

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.