Seamus Heaney


And some time make the time to drive out west
Into County Clare, along the Flaggy Shore,
In September or October, when the wind
And the light are working off each other
So that the ocean on one side is wild
With foam and glitter, and inland among the stones
The surface of a slate-grey lake is lit
By the earthed lightning of a flock of swans,
Their feathers roughed and ruffling, white on white,
Their fully grown headstrong-looking heads
Tucked or cresting or busy underwater.
Useless to think you’ll park and capture it
More thoroughly. You are neither here nor there,
A hurry through which known and strange things pass
As big soft buffetings come at the car sideways
And catch the heart off guard and blow it open.

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‘In  the same peaty soil into which his father drove a spade, poet laureate, Seamus Heaney was laid to rest this evening in the quiet Co Derry village that inspired so much of his work…’ 


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  • Hello Frances’
    I caught a glimpse of a possible post earlier in the week which looked interesting. I think it was going to be about your visit to the Graham Greene International festival. Would be interested to read it…

  • coming up…

  • Hello again, Frances
    Just wondering if you’ll be posting anything on the Graham Greene International Festival…?

  • It seems a bit faraway already but I might just add some photos of the trip to London…

  • Would also be of interest, thanks…

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