Seamus Heaney passed away in August and I’ve been meaning to find time to make a little piece as a tribute to him. This little poem is from his book The Death of a Naturalist published in 1966 by Faber & Faber, his first major book release. While Digging may be a piece that is often quoted or printed, it’s still one of my favorites. Maybe because of my own childhood memories of digging potatoes or perhaps because now I look at the vast contrast my life and profession has as compared to my father or grandfather. Heaney dug with his pen and I dig with my 26 soldiers of lead.
Composed in 14pt Janson with a Garamond title and printed on grey Whiting 80# stock, 7.25 x 11″. Not for sale but if you are one of my collectors expect to find one in your mail box soon.
Lovely piece, albeit Rhythm is incorrectly spelt on line 8.
My favourite poem. Is it possible to get a copy of this anywhere Chad?
Thanks, Andrew
Co Down
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Andrew,
Thanks for the reminder 3 years later 😉
I might still have a couple around.
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That’d be great Chad! Many thanks, Andrew
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Lovely, but it’s ‘rhythm’
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Titivillus strikes again! Even more amazing that it took someone so long to discover this evil apparition (or tell me about it anyway). Good thing this was a freebie for the true book lovers….
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Rural Iowa and Ireland, makes sense. I’ll be checking out some James Hearst.
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Here is a link: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/james-hearst#about
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Great poem! It reminds me a little of James Hearst, an Iowa poet who wrote on his naturalistic/farm subjects with a great emotional connection too. Perfect to read for this October day, and inspiration for printing!
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