Daffodils by Ted Hughes
Daffodils in Ted Hughes’ Birthday Letters is one of those poems that always cuts me deeply. The rusted cross at the end. Whew.
I once had a beloved Siberian Huskey I found on a hot summer morning while attempting to jog before the sun got too high in Columbia, SC. It is hot on the pavement in Columbia in the summer. This poor pup met me with her bright blue eyes and looked through me asking me to take her somewhere.
How could I resist?
She lived with me for years and became a trusted partner even on her three legs after her cancer forced an amputation. I named her Sylvia after Sylvia Plath. I still think of her often.
Hughes’ Birthday Letters is a collection of thoughts on his wife Sylvia who took her life in 1963. It’s a jarring and penetrating and altogether emotional collection. Daffodils here is one of my favorites.
Daffodils by Ted Hughes – The American Scholar