The Perch by Seamus Heaney
Perch on their water perch hung in the clear Bann River Near the clay bank in alder dapple and waver,
Perch they called ‘grunts’, little flood-slubs, runty and ready, I saw and I see in the river’s glorified body
That is passable through, but they’re bluntly holding the pass, Under the water-roof, over the bottom, adoze
On the current, against it, all muscle and slur In the finland of perch, the fenland of alder, on air
That is water, on carpets of Bann stream, on hold In the everything flows and steady go of the world.
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