seamus heaney quotes

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Little Trotty Wagtail, he waddled in the mud,
And left his little footmarks, trample where he would.
The bogholes might be Atlantic seepage.
The wet centre is bottomless.
An astounding crate full of air.
We have no prairies
To slice a big sun at evening--
It was a day of cold
Raw silence, wind-blown
As you find a rhythm
the habitual
Slow consolation
Of a dawdling engine,
At closing time would go
In waders and peaked cap
Dawn-sniffing revenant,
Plodder through midnight rain,
Question me again.
Right down the dam gross-bellied frogs were cocked
On sods; their loose necks pulsed like sails. Some hopped:
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