Patrick Kavanagh
The Patrick and Katherine Kavanagh Trust

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Innocence


They laughed at one I loved -
The triangular hill that hung
Under the Big Forth. They said
That I was bounded by the whitethorn hedges
Of the little farm and did not know the world. 
But I knew that love's doorway to life
Is the same doorway everywhere. 

Ashamed of what I loved
I flung her from me and called her a ditch
Although she was smiling at me with violets.

But now I am back in her briary arms;
The dew of an Indian Summer morning lies
On bleached potato-stalks -
What age am I?

I do not know what age I am,
I am no mortal age;
I know nothing of women,
Nothing of cities,
I cannot die
Unless I walk outside these whitethorn hedges.
-Patrick Kavanagh
Copyright © Estate of Katherine Kavanagh

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Home Life Photos Works in Print Kavanagh Centre The Trust Contact