Seamus Heaney Poems
|1.||‘When all the others were away at Mass'||7/23/2015|
|2.||A Kite For Aibhín||12/28/2011|
|4.||Act Of Union||11/11/2010|
|6.||Anything Can Happen||2/19/2015|
|11.||Death Of A Naturalist||12/28/2011|
|17.||From The Frontier Of Writing||12/28/2011|
|20.||Lovers On Aran||12/28/2011|
|22.||Mossbawn: Two Poems In Dedication||12/28/2011|
|26.||Requiem For The Croppies||12/28/2011|
|27.||Rite Of Spring||12/28/2011|
|30.||Tankas For Toraiwa||1/10/2012|
|32.||The Early Purges||12/28/2011|
|33.||The Grauballe Man||12/28/2011|
|34.||The Harvest Bow||11/11/2010|
|37.||The Tollund Man||11/11/2010|
|39.||Villanelle For An Anniversary||2/9/2015|
I sat all morning in the college sick bay
Counting bells knelling classes to a close.
At two o'clock our neighbors drove me home.
In the porch I met my father crying--
He had always taken funerals in his stride--
And Big Jim Evans saying it was a hard blow.
The baby cooed and laughed and rocked the pram
When I came in, and I was embarrassed
By old men standing up to shake my hand
And tell me they were 'sorry for my trouble,'
Whispers informed strangers I was the eldest,
Away at school, as my mother held my hand
In hers and coughed out angry ...
for Michael Longley
As a child, they could not keep me from wells
And old pumps with buckets and windlasses.
I loved the dark drop, the trapped sky, the smells
Of waterweed, fungus and dank moss.
One, in a brickyard, with a rotted board top.