Seamus Heaney
 

Seamus Heaney

Höfn

The three-tongued glacier has begun to melt.
What will we do, they ask, when boulder-milt
Comes wallowing across the delta flats

And the miles-deep shag ice makes its move?
I saw it, ridged and rock-set, from above,
Undead grey-gristed earth-pelt, aeon-scruff,

And feared its coldness that still seemed enough
To iceblock the plane window dimmed with breath,
Deepfreeze the seep of adamantine tilth

And every warm, mouthwatering word of mouth.


unpublished as of 10/04/2006
(An 11”x16” broadside of this poem, with an original illustration by Barry Moser, is available from the Poetry Center.)

 

Poems by Seamus Heaney

The Haw Lantern

Postscript

The Clothes Shrine

  

Höfn
(Available as a broadside.)