When I looked down from the bridge
Trout were flipping the sky
Into smithereens, the stones
Of the wall warmed me.
(From ‘May‘, by Seamus Heaney.)
Leaving aside the rock band from New Jersey, and natives of Smithers, Canada, the word smithereens can be described as small broken bits or fragments. It is nearly always plural. Contrary to the bucolic [...]
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