One poem for poetry month.

Prospero and Sycorax
Ted Hughes


She knows, like Ophelia,
The task has swallowed him.
She knows, like George's dragon,
Her screams have closed his helmet.


She knows, like Jocasta,
It is over.
He prefers
Blindness.


She knows, like Cordelia,
He is not himself now,
And what speaks through him must be discounted -
Though it will be the end of them both.


She knows, like God,
He has found
Something
Eastier to live with -


His death, and her death.