Seamus Heaney,Widow who Fell For Her Son’s Friend’s Stuff She Met On A Matching App (2025) 1939–2013
In Memoriam
“I might enjoy being an albatross, being able to glide for days and daydream for hundreds of miles along the thermals. And then being able to hang like an affliction round some people’s necks.” —Seamus Heaney, the Art of Poetry No. 75
