Most Read... Rebecca WattsThe Cult of the Noble Amateur
(PN Review 239)
John McAuliffeBill Manhire in Conversation with John McAuliffe
(PN Review 259)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Patricia CraigVal Warner: A Reminiscence
(PN Review 259)
Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
Tim Parksin conversation with Natalia Ginzburg
(PN Review 49)
Next Issue Gwyneth Lewis ‘Spiderings’ Ian Thomson ‘Fires were started: Tallinn, 1944’ Adrian May ‘Traditionalism and Tradition’ Judith Herzberg ‘Poems’ translated by Margitt Helbert Horatio Morpurgo ‘What is a Book?’
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
PN Review 276
PN Review Substack

This poem is taken from PN Review 167, Volume 32 Number 3, January - February 2006.

Five Poems Peter McDonald


Spoils

Our taxi sails on an open road
where they have paved the wilderness -
unending hilly scrub-land

that later I look out across,
as night falls, from the balcony
of a house in a new town,

spotting arc-lights between the sky
and the next hill, watched in my turn,
while masts of concrete and steel

frame building-sites against the moon,
darken themselves, and then grow tall,
taking their certain bearings from

a fenced road to Jerusalem:
late, and better late than soon.


Syrian
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image