Poem of the week: The Night Hunt by Thomas MacDonagh

‘Our coming did not rouse / Him from drowsing undisturbed’. Photograph: Sergiy Romanyuk/Getty Images/iStockphoto

The Night Hunt

In the morning, in the dark,
When the stars began to blunt,
By the wall of Barna Park
Dogs I heard and saw them hunt
All the parish dogs were there,
All the dogs for miles around,
Teeming up behind a hare,
In the dark without a sound.