"SLOE GIN
The clear weather of juniper
darkened into winter.
She fed gin to sloes
and sealed the glass container.
When I unscrewed it
I smelled the disturbed
tart stillness of a bush
rising through the pantry.
When I poured it
it had a cutting edge
and flamed
like Betelgeuse.
I drink to you
in smoke-mirled, blue-
black sloes, bitter
and dependable."
--Seamus Heaney
"Has he been on the spree
with Nodens
in Lydney woods"
--The Anathemata
Me vs [The version of me others built].
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