Heaney
Certified readers: 8. My father, digging. I look down // Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds // Bends low, comes up twenty years away // Stooping in rhythm through potato drills // Where he was digging.
Certified readers: 8. My father, digging. I look down // Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds // Bends low, comes up twenty years away // Stooping in rhythm through potato drills // Where he was digging.