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Daily Archives: April 13, 2017

Bullfinch, Blossom and Seamus Heaney

While I was out this morning, the lovely Mr S caught a photo of Bullfinches at our feeders. He refilled the feeders just after taking the photo. It is emptied in a day!

Coming back from Chacewater, we spotted a beautiful tree full of blossom. I took the photo from the moving car.

Seamus Heaney was born on this day in 1939. What a lovely piece of writing, dedicated to Marie Heaney and called Sunlight. It conjures up a beautiful domestic scene, full of warmth and humanity.

Mossbawn: Two Poems In Dedication

1. Sunlight 

There was a sunlit absence.
The helmeted pump in the yard
heated its iron,
water honeyed

in the slung bucket
and the sun stood
like a griddle cooling
against the wall

of each long afternoon.
So, her hands scuffled
over the bakeboard,
the reddening stove

sent its plaque of heat
against her where she stood
in a floury apron
by the window.

Now she dusts the board
with a goose’s wing,
now sits, broad-lapped,
with whitened nails

and measling shins:
here is a space
again, the scone rising
to the tick of two clocks.

And here is love
like a tinsmith’s scoop
sunk past its gleam
in the meal-bin.

 

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