One April Mourning

Remembering Heaney. Final edit to what is for me the most pleasurable write of the year I been here. Having completed the edit just in time to say thank you to all the kind reviewers and friends

Rerouting through Dublin when it occurred 

to me: the old naturalist 

was only a short hop, skip 

and a jump away -- if 

I wanted to pay my respects -- now 

seemed the time to take time to detour 

to heed the sudden impulse for 

a day of remembrance, a providential dram 

or two to Bellaghy’s loss -- 

before heading home to harness 

of life’s work. 

In the morning, plans jigged, a few pounds 

lighter, headed up north, my thoughts 

divided skimming along the rails: 

what would he have thought of the latest 

troubles roiling across these verdant fields, 

the whiff of parochial contempt rising up 

yet again? 

Hughes had written once, how 

he considered him the voice 

of Irishness … but more than that 

transcended the boundaries --

to view geography, free from borders, 

one needed to swim Shannon’s 

divining way … from the Cullcagh pot 

to Limerick’s basin … 

Where time had carried me 

through decades, trials and 

tribulations, hard pines 

and heart burns, from tea cups 

to tempests, broken china 

shards on floors more numerous 

than I cared to remember -- Heaney, 

God blessed, had hammered the wind, 

Strained his clicking tongue between the shafts. 

The digger, pen cocked, each and every 

word true to the bullseye, an arrow 

straight through to the heart’s wickets. 

In the wan light of an April drizzle 

I found him tucked away 

in the back among his beloved. 

The stone, like his verse, free 

of ostentation. Simple but direct 

in its direction. So much to think, 

but really what more than being there? 

He knew: what I know now --

every syllable extracts a breath, 

is a step nearer to recognition of an end. 

The call to walk on air against 

your better judgement. 

Ken e Bujold

Author's Note

tightened it up. Notes: the italics are 1) from Ted Hughes letters 2) a slight rejig of the third line of Heaney's poem The Follower and 3) the inscription on his tombstone, which is also a line from his Nobel Laureate acceptance speech

Reviews

[Lorry]

Ah, nothing quite hits the spot like a providential dram Ken, or two. 😊
And as your authors note suggests, this is a tight write, with both the feel of the writer in question, as well as geographically. Very impressive.
The last time I was in Ireland was for an oasis gig, which I had planned a long weekend for, as well as a list of must see sights amongst a libation or two. But I ended up more libated than I intended and still have the list of unticked places to visit, which I'm sure will be done one day seeing as how it's only a ferry ride away and since lockdown, is probably the farthest I would risk to venture these days.
But on the plus side, the gig, at Slane Castle, was to be their last completed concert, as they basically split at their next gig, which was ironically nearer to home in Edinburgh.
But I digress... I hope you enjoyed paying your respects as much as I enjoyed reading about it.

[Vol]

Ken,
A fine narrative... important moments captured in ink and preserved... My favorite kind of poem... But I have no idea who "The naturalist" you mention might be? I think I would enjoy that small measure of enlightenment...
Vol

[Ken e Bujold]

Seamus Heaney: Noble Laureate, first volume was called Death of the Naturalist. Later in life due to so much of his work centering on rural ireland of his childhood he became known as the old naturalist. Along with Yeats and Kavanaugh Heaney is one of the Major 3 in Irish poetry

[Vol]

Ah! I should have known,..
Thanks, Vol

[Betty Hermelee]

I like your tribute to Irish poetry and you name quite a few. what better to do in wandering around Dublin than to think of their great poets.... what i gleam out of this is that you especially like the simplicity of their work...every syllable counts...not too wordy... and every word is carefully chosen...a very meaningful piece Ken....
Warmly, B

[W. Barrett Munn]

A wonderful tribute to the Irish poets written by a modern master.

Winston

[Chris Shaw]

Time well spent I would say Ken. I have visited Dublin many times but have not paid my respects to Heaney, although I did poem him earlier this year. And in a favourite place of my own. I like what Ted Hughes said of him. I enjoyed your thoughts here. Have a great day.

Chris

[Ken e Bujold]

thanks Chris. Heaney was a great poet and a splendid soul, who i had the great fortune to meet twice. A childhood friend of his was a great friend of my family. knew of my admiration and arranged a dinner invite when heaney was here in toronto to accept an award. 2nd time was in a pub (name escapes me) was in a pub in dublin not far from the Uni. had gone there with a friend i was visiting who was on a yr guest lector contract. Heaney ever the gentlemen not only remembered me, but talked for a good 20 mins about his childhood friends escapades. few yrs ago on way back from trip to continent got unexpectedly rerouted to Dub, and decided to spend few days, and used one to go visit his grave in Bellaghy

[Chris Shaw]

You were very fortunate to meet him. I have worked in many places in Ireland, including Belfast. That would have been much nearer his resting place. Love Ireland, both north and south. Have very happy memories of my time there:)

[Ken e Bujold]

yes bellaghy is just past toome

[Ken e Bujold]

i love the green isle too. maternal grandmother was french canadian of irish heritage. for her the shamrock was everything. other than the pope. :)

[Chris Shaw]

I particularly like the Irish clock. Nothing started before ten in the morning and the nights were late. Very warm people who know how to party:)

[Ken e Bujold]

so true. only other place that i know that is similar in its combination of safety and laissez-faire to clocks is Uraquay where not only do days start late but a 3pm siesta is considered a god given right.

[Bhuyanshi Talukdar]

You have a beautiful way with words. Your poem is full of vivid imagery and emotion. I was particularly struck by the idea of transcending borders, both literal and figurative. Your reflection on the naturalist and Heaney's poetry was deeply moving. I appreciate the way you captured the essence of paying respects and finding meaning in life's journey. Thank you for sharing your talent with the world.

[Coyote Poetry]

I liked the poetry. I enjoy the ancient writers Ken.
"He knew -- what I know now:
every syllable extracts a breath, a step
nearer to recognition of an end. The call:
Walk on air against your better judgement. "
The above lines are wonderful. Hard to walk on air. I have tried. Thank you my friend for sharing the outstanding poetry.
Coyote

[Ken e Bujold]

the walk on air against your better judgement is a line from Seamus Heaney nobel acceptance speech. also the inscription on his grave marker. Heaney, the great irish poet, to my mind the greatest of the back half of the 20th century. Poem is a recounting of my spur-of-the-moment detour to visit his grave a few yrs back.

[W. Barrett Munn]

Now you have slayed it. Odd how one word can throw off a stanza. Now you got yourself a nugget of gold.

Winston

[Ken e Bujold]

yes. when i flipped to to for it seemed so logical i can't believe it took so long to notice it. thanks so much for the keen eye

[W. Barrett Munn]

No problem.