Dermot Healy (born 1947 in Finnea, County Westmeath, Ireland) was an Irish novelist, playwright and poet. He won the Hennessy Award (1974 and 1976), the Tom Gallon Award (1983), and the Encore Award (1995). In 2011, he was shortlisted for the Poetry Now Award for his poetry collection, A Fool's Errand.
Healy was a member of Aosdána and of its governing body, the Toscaireacht, and lived in County Sligo, Ireland.
Healy wrote five collections of poetry. This was his second, though it was the fourth of his that I've read. It was, on the whole, less compelling than the other three, and still much better than a lot of the weaponized poetry becoming popular in recent years. In both his prose and his poetry, I've always connected deeply to Healy's work, as though it was written in a strange and anomalous language that I've understood since birth.
The shovels work like oars
rowing the dead man from this world
to the next
He speaks often of the sea, and of wildlife, and of the nuanced aspects of human life, such as footsteps and dreams and strangers in passing cars. Reading Healy always brings on creative flourishes where I enter into a few days of my own writing.