It’s very touching to hear a poet read his own poetry. Especially here where Seamus Heaney talks about his aunt. This poem is short but is conveys warmth and coldness, present and past, love and light in these few words. The atmosphere is calm, and time seems to move slowly, peacefully. A typical afternoon in the countryside.
“And here is love
like a tinsmith’s scoop
sunk past its gleam
in the meal-bin.”