{"id":702,"date":"2013-07-07T10:45:28","date_gmt":"2013-07-07T17:45:28","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/?p=702"},"modified":"2016-04-27T15:42:17","modified_gmt":"2016-04-27T22:42:17","slug":"0707","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/2013\/07\/07\/0707\/","title":{"rendered":"0707"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/p>\n

0707
\nYou otter know<\/p>\n

The Otter <\/strong>
\nBy Seamus Heaney<\/p>\n

When you plunged
\nThe light of Tuscany wavered
\nAnd swung through the pool
\nFrom top to bottom.<\/p>\n

I loved your wet head and smashing crawl,
\nYour fine swimmer’s back and shoulders
\nSurfacing and surfacing again
\nThis year and every year since.<\/p>\n

I sat dry-throated on the warm stones.
\nYou were beyond me.
\nThe mellowed clarities, the grape-deep air
\nThinned and disappointed.<\/p>\n

Thank God for the slow loadening,
\nWhen I hold you now
\nWe are close and deep
\nAs the atmosphere on water.<\/p>\n

My two hands are plumbed water.
\nYou are my palpable, lithe
\nOtter of memory
\nIn the pool of the moment,<\/p>\n

Turning to swim on your back,
\nEach silent, thigh-shaking kick
\nRe-tilting the light,
\nHeaving the cool at your neck.<\/p>\n

And suddenly you’re out,
\nBack again, intent as ever,
\nHeavy and frisky in your freshened pelt,
\nPrinting the stones.<\/p>\n