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February 13, 2018

Irish

At Toomebridge
(by Seamus Heaney)

Where the flat water

Came pouring over the weir out of Lough Neagh

As if it had reached an edge of the flat earth

And fallen shining to the continuous

Present of the Bann.

Where the checkpoint used to be.

Where the rebel boy was hanged in '98.

Where negative ions in the open air

Are poetry to me. As once before

The slime and silver of the fattened eel.

from Electric Light, 2001, Farrar, Straus and Giroux

Posted by JD Hull at February 13, 2018 01:30 AM

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