R.I.P. Seamus Heaney With the habitual Slow consolation Of - TopicsExpress



          

R.I.P. Seamus Heaney With the habitual Slow consolation Of a dawdling engine, The line lifted, hand Over fist, cold sunshine On the water, the land Banked under fog: that morning I was taken in his boat, The Screw purling, turning Indolent fathoms white, I tasted freedom with him. To get out early, haul Steadily off the bottom, Dispraise the catch, and smile As you find a rhythm Working you, slow mile by mile, Into your proper haunt Somewhere, well out, beyond... From "Casualty"
Posted on: Sat, 31 Aug 2013 11:14:10 +0000

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