Julia Bobkoff remembers one of her favorite poets and a man well-loved.
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Goodbye to “the wellspring…subtle wisdom and shining grace.”
Goodbye to “humor, care, and courtesy.”
Goodbye “to the gift of him in [Ireland’s] national life.”
Goodbye to the first poem and the last collection.
Professor of rhetoric and poet-in-residence.
From Londonderry to Dublin and every “temperate footstep” in between–
A “lifetime digging with his pen.”
Peat bogs, bread baking, mouthpiece of Northern troubles, farm boy with
“readers in high places.”
Poet as holy vocation–
knowing that words well chosen could be
“a force, almost a mode of power, certainly a mode of resistance.”
Celt, Catholic, lover of Christmas–
“kind and lovely soul.”
Beloved of Faber and Faber.
Husband, father, globe-trotter, freelance scribe–
youth’s teacher, adorned with laurels, both private and paraded.
Happy to meet the buzz of this world, or sequester.
To this self-proclaimed “dabbler in verses,”
who also faced the demon of doubt, we say–
rest, rest now– a rest well-earned.
It was worth the dedication.
You will be missed in Bellaghy (ah–so many friends)!
You will be mourned and remembered,
You…
and your squat pen.
Photo—By Frankenthalerj – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, Wikimedia Commons