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An Analysis of 'Follower' by Seamus Heaney
An Analysis of ‘Follower’ by Seamus Heaney
My father worked with a horse plough, His shoulders globed like a full sail strung Between the shafts and the furrow. The horses strained at his clicking tongue.
An expert. He would set the wing And fit the bright-pointed sock. The sod rolled over without breaking. At the headrig, with a single pluck.
Of reins, the sweating team turned round And back into the land.…
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Analysis of 'The Harvest Bow' by Seamus Heaney
Analysis of ‘The Harvest Bow’ by Seamus Heaney
The Harvest Bow
by Seamus Heaney
As you plaited the harvest bow You implicated the mellowed silence in you In wheat that does not rust But brightens as it tightens twist by twist Into a knowable corona, A throwaway love-knot of straw.
Hands that aged round ashplants and cane sticks And lapped the spurs on a lifetime of…
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