« Greater China: More than a feeling. Try not to screw up, okay?, | Main | Shakespeare, Law and Literature. »
April 18, 2012
Poetry Month, Year, Age, Whatever: Seamus Heaney's Toome.
At Toomebridge
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.--first poem in Electric Light (2001)
Posted by JD Hull at April 18, 2012 11:59 PM
Comments
Post a comment
Thanks for signing in, . Now you can comment. (sign out)
(If you haven't left a comment here before, you may need to be approved by the site owner before your comment will appear. Until then, it won't appear on the entry. Thanks for waiting.)