Wednesday, April 6, 2011

To get home, one almost has to go through Ireland



My old friend, how you sought
Occasions of justified anger!
Who could buff me like you




Who wanted the soul to ring true
And plain as a galvanised bucket
And would kick it to test it?




Or whack it clean like a carpet.
So of course when you turned on yourself
You were ferocious.








Seamus Heaney
Two Quick Notes [i]
  The Haw Lantern
The Noonday Press
Farrar, Strauss & Giroux, 1987©


Paolo Anchisi



2 comments:

  1. "Field Work" is a favorite book of poems.

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  2. And you're certainly entitled to say so! If there is a poetic conscience vaguely cognisant of what's scribbled here, it is certainly you; and to think, you come, replete, with the gods' own pizza!

    :)

    Thank you for your visit. Today's postings form an obvious diptych, and are a lot of heavy going for the good nature of one's visitors. You have always been there, Bruce.

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