SEAMUS HEANEY
The blac kth orn is a j aggy creel
stippl ed with dark sloes;
green wa tercress in th atch on wells
where th e drinkin g blackbird goes.
Sweetes t of th e leafy stalks,
th e vetches strew th e pathway ;
th e oys ter-grass is m y delight,
and th e wild strawberry.
Low-set cl umps o f apple trees
drum down frui t when shaken;
scarl et berri es clot like bl ood
on mountain rowa n.
Briars curl in sideways,
arch a sti ckl e back,
draw bl ood and curl up innocent
to
sneak the next attack.
The yew tree in each churchyard
wraps night in its dark hood .
Ivy
is a shadowy
genius o f the wood .
Holly rears its windbrea k,
a door in winter's [lce;
life-blood on a spear-shaft
darkens th e grain of ash.
Birch tree, smooth and bl essed ,
delicious to th e breeze,
high twigs plait and crown it
th e queen of trees.
The aspen pales
and whi spers, hesitates:
a th ousa nd frightened SClltS
race in its Ieaves.
But what di sturbs me mos t
in th e leafy wood
is th e to and fro and
to
and fro
of an oa k rod .
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