The friends and members of The Wild Geese wish to extend our deepest sympathy to the family and friends of Seamus Heaney.

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From the Frontier Of Writing

The tightness and the nilness round that space

when the car stops in the road, the troops inspect

its make and number and, as one bends his face

towards your window, you catch sight of more

on a hill beyond, eyeing with intent

down cradled guns that hold you under cover

and everything is pure interrogation

until a rifle motions and you move

with guarded unconcerned…

I identified strongly with this poem from the first time I heard it spoken. Much like the follower that was Seamus in his childhood, I followed behind my father and grandfather as they worked cattle and handled ranch duties ... mimicking, getting under foot and learning, growing, as I did.

And now ... in the silver times, my father is slowing, jabbering on, following my lead ... sometimes: 

Follower

My father worked with a…

I, for one, can’t wait. When the time longs into my soul and the creak in my knees cause gentle steps, I’ll grow long my eyebrows. I’ll let them loose on my face as I chase away the last days of my living.…