For how could I forget Heaney on St. Patrick’s Day? This one’s a favorite from North.
from The Grauballe Man / by Seamus Heaney
As if he had been poured
in tar, he lies
on a pillow of turf
and seems to weep
the black river of himself.
Day: March 17, 2017
DPF / Collins
For poetry on St. Patrick’s Day, from a poet to whom I passed the handshake passed to me from a hand that shook Emily Dickinson’s, and from The Trouble with Poetry: And Other Poems.
from The Trouble with Poetry / by Billy Collins
But mostly poetry fills me
with the urge to write poetry,
to sit in the dark and wait for a little flame
to appear at the tip of my pencil.
Daily Poetry Fragments {Semi-Daily} 