Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership


CreationEarth Nature Photos


Follower

 My father worked with a horse-plough,
His shoulders globed like a full sail strung
Between the shafts and the furrow.
The horse strained at his clicking tongue.
An expert.
He would set the wing And fit the bright steel-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.
His eye Narrowed and angled at the ground, Mapping the furrow exactly.
I stumbled in his hob-nailed wake, Fell sometimes on the polished sod; Sometimes he rode me on his back Dipping and rising to his plod.
I wanted to grow up and plough, To close one eye, stiffen my arm.
All I ever did was follow In his broad shadow round the farm.
I was a nuisance, tripping, falling, Yapping always.
But today It is my father who keeps stumbling Behind me, and will not go away.

by Seamus Heaney
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - FollowerEmail Poem |
Comment below this ad.

Top Seamus Heaney Poems

Analysis and Comments on Follower

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Follower here.

Commenting has been disabled for now.