Seamus Heaney, “A Mite-Box”

But still in your cupped palm to feel
The chunk and clink of an alms-collecting mite-box,
Full to its slotted lid with copper coins,

Pennies and halfpennies donated for
“The foreign missions”… Made from a cardboard kit,
Wedge-roofted like a little oratory

And yours to tote as you made the rounds,
Indulged on every doorstep, each donation
Accounted for by a pinprick in a card—

A way for all to see a way to heaven,
The same as when a pinholed camera
Obscura unblinds the sun eclipsed.

Human Chain is the latest collection from Nobel laureate Seamus Heaney. While I was searching online for other poems from this collection, I came across this video of an earlier poem, “Digging,” which I thought I would share with you:

9 September 2010 | poetry |