Poem of the week: Take a Walk on the Wild Side

Dogs, like time and tide, 
wait for no man or woman, or virus. 
But this dog was waiting for me, 
and I couldn't say no. 
So check glasses, wellos, poo bags, collar. 
Lead the way Macduff!

Late, thank God; the misanthropist's delight. 
We saw a trawler – out to sea, lights as beguiling, 
as lonesome, as a funeral song. 
We heard, then vaguely saw, a swan, 
followed by another swan, flying, 
barely able to know if that raw 
asthmatic sound was from beak or wing.

A robin, more trusting than brave, 
sang us the sweetest Evensong. 
Another bird, even more startled 
than us, with its helicopter wings, 
took fright, took flight.

Far above us all a jet plane, 
warm-framed in the twilight, 
its jet trail rendered sweet 
by the failing sunlight – 
Red, and as beautiful as a comet's tail.

State and Nation in the United Kingdom: The Fractured Union – Losing control

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They’re classics now, but what did we think of books by Yeats, Behan and Binchy at the time?

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Money and Power: Paschal Donohoe on Vince Cable’s new book

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Seven Necessary Sins: A call to arms for the feminist fight ahead

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Was it merely this (merely?!) 
or every single thing gone before, 
or the horror of now, 
that sank me to my knees?

Peadar O'Donoghue is co-editor of PB Magazine, with his wife, Collette. He has published two collections of poetry, The Death of Poetry (PB Press 2019), and Jewel (Salmon Poetry 2012).