The Dudeism Forum

Here's a poem by the late Ted Hughes that has kinda stayed with me over the years.

THE THOUGHT-FOX

I imagine this midnight moment?s forest:
Something else is alive
Beside the clock?s loneliness
And this blank page where my fingers move.


Through the window I see no star:
Something more near

Though deeper within darkness
Is entering the loneliness:

Cold, delicately as the dark snow,
A fox?s nose touches twig, leaf;
Two eyes serve a movement, that now
And again now, and now, and now

Sets neat prints into the snow
Between trees, and warily a lame
Shadow lags by stump and in hollow
Of a body that is bold to come

Across clearings, an eye,

A widening deepening greenness,
Brilliantly, concentratedly,
Coming about its own business

Till, with a sudden sharp hot stink of fox

It enters the dark hole of the head.

The window is starless still; the clock ticks,

The page is printed.

Engenders a comfortable (light) melancholy, in me. Add pictures, stories, paintings - what- have-yous that celebrate (in some way) or just illustrate your feelings/thoughts on winter.