The wintry haw is burning out of s… crab of the thorn, a small light f… wanting no more from them but that… the wick of self-respect from dyin… not having to blind them with illu…

“We were killing pigs when the Yanks arrived. A Tuesday morning, sunlight and gutter-blood Outside the slaughter house.

Perch on their water perch hung in… Near the clay bank in alder dapple… Perch they called ‘grunts’, little… I saw and I see in the river’s gl… That is passable through, but they…

Some day I will go to Aarhus To see his peat-brown head, The mild pods of his eye-lids, His pointed skin cap. In the flat country near by

I sat all morning in the college s… Counting bells knelling classes to… At two o’clock our neighbors drove… In the porch I met my father cryi… He had always taken funerals in hi…

Here is the girl’s head like an ex… Oval-faced, prune-skinned, prune-s… They unswaddled the wet fern of he… And made an exhibition of its coil… Let the air at her leathery beauty…

As if he had been poured in tar, he lies on a pillow of turf and seems to weep the black river of himself.

It is December in Wicklow: Alders dripping, birches Inheriting the last light, The ash tree cold to look at. A comet that was lost

Late August, given heavy rain and… For a full week, the blackberries… At first, just one, a glossy purpl… Among others, red, green, hard as… You ate that first one and its fle…

The annals say: when the monks of… Were all at prayers inside the ora… A ship appeared above them in the… The anchor dragged along behind so… It hooked itself into the altar ra…

There was a sunlit absence. The helmeted pump in the yard heated its iron, water honeyed in the slung bucket

As a child, they could not keep me… And old pumps with buckets and win… I loved the dark drop, the trapped… Of waterweed, fungus and dank moss… One, in a brickyard, with a rotted…

My “place of clear water”, the first hill in the world where springs washed into the shiny grass and darkened cobbles