Digging by Seamus Heaney
Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests; snug as a gun.
Under my window, a clean rasping sound
When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:
My father, digging. I look down
Under my window, a clean rasping sound
When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:
My father, digging. I look down
Listen to:
Making sense of a life, a conversation with Nobel Laureate and poet
Seamus Heaney.
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