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Poetry, as plants

Then there are other poets and poetry that turn out to be more like plants, and growths inside you.  It’s not so much a case of inspecting the produce as of feeling a life coming into you and through you.  You’re Jack and at the same time you’re the beanstalk.  You’re the ground and the growth all at once.  There’s no critical distance, as yet.  Kavanagh and Hughes had the latter effect on me, but not MacNiece.

from Stepping Stones, O’Driscoll’s book of interviews with Seamus Heaney (50)
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