As he prowled the rim of his clearing
where the blade of choice had not spared
one stump of affection
he was like a ploughshare
interred to sustain the whole field
of force, from the bitted
and high-drawn sideways curve
of the horse's neck to the aim
held fast in the wrists and elbows-
the more brutal the pull
and the drive, the deeper
and quieter the work of refreshment.
- Seamus Heaney (Station Island)
the only poetry reading i attended this year was Seamus
reciting in a large auditorium to a large crowd-
a humble man stating his childhood and adult perceptions
in terse words of irish-english gaelic tone
i was left with the impression of his insight into blackbirds
- my sense is that these are poems which benefit a reader
to the extent that they are uttered aloud
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