Digging

My favorite poem that we read for today's class was "Digging" by Seamus Heaney. It is an interesting poem about continuing traditions. He writes about how his father was a digger, describing the sounds he hears from below his window. Lines 3-5 of the poem say "Under my window, a clean rasping sound / When the spade sinks into the gravelly ground: / My father, digging. I look down" (3). Heaney describes the hard labor his father does, and how his grandfather used to do the same work. He writes: "By god, the old man could handle a spade. / Just like his old man" (15). Heaney then says that he wants to follow in his father and grandfather's footsteps, but he doesn't quite want to do manual labor. He has a passion for writing, and he believes that's what he should be doing with his life. Line 28 captures all of this by saying "But I've no spade to follow men like them" (28). Heaney is basically saying that he's not cut out for a life of digging and planting. The final three lines of the poem are when the reader learns that Heaney's passion lies in his writing. He writes "Between my finger and my thumb / The squat pen rests. / I'll dig with it" (29). Heaney is doing his own kind of digging by writing and analyzing. Therefore, he can tell himself he's following in his father's footsteps, even though he really isn't. I liked this poem because of its simplicity.