Genuinely saddened to hear the news of the death today of Seamus Heaney. I have read his work since I first became interested in poetry when a teenager, and I have over the years had the pleasure of teaching and sharing his wonderful writing. In memory of him and this, I include here a beautiful, consummate sonnet from a longer poem of his called Clearances, itself written in memory of his mother. For various reasons this is a poem that carries significant meaning for me.
In Memoriam M.K.H., 1911-1984
When all the others were away at Mass
I was all hers as we peeled potatoes.
They broke the silence, let fall one by one
Like solder weeping off the soldering iron:
Cold comforts set between us, things to share
Gleaming in a bucket of clean water.
And again let fall. Little pleasant splashes
From each other's work would bring us to our senses.
So while the parish priest at her bedside
Went hammer and tongs at the prayers for the dying
And some were responding and some crying
I remembered her head bent towards my head,
Her breath in mine, our fluent dipping knives -
Never closer the whole rest of our lives.
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