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RIP Seamus Heaney

Heaney remembering his dying mother in past times when he would sit with her peeling potatoes. Poignant stuff.

When all the others were away at Mass by Seamus Heaney

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.
 
An east Belfast Prod mourns the passing of Seamus Heaney.

His words are like the best music I ever heard.

Mr Tibbs
 


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