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Death of a Naturalist

Nobel Prize Winning Poem about Childhood, Identity, and Work

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Heath W. Black
@heathwblack · Head of Growth, Imzy
"Digging" Between my finger and my thumb The squat pen rests; snug as a gun. Under my window, a clean rasping sound When the spade sinks into gravelly ground: My father, digging. I look down Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds Bends low, comes up twenty years away Stooping in rhythm through potato drills Where he was digging. T… See more