Dominion

Catherine Phil MacCarthy

‘And let them have dominion

over the fish of the sea, over the fowl of the air,

over the cattle, and over every creeping thing.’

(Genesis 1:26-28)

We carried them over black and white

concourse tiles in the Station.

Fifty fluffy, day-olds in a slatted crate

nestled for warmth by the Aga

in the kitchen for days, then

in the boiler-house next door.

Bedding was lined with saw-dust

and straw made fresh every few days,

under an infra-red lamp that warmed

their space and lit our hands

when we were allowed to stroke

downy yellow of feather and wing,

as we counted days into weeks

kept feed trays and water clean.

I remember the softness, their smell.

Soon they were strong enough

to roam the back yard, sleep

with the hens. My mother set traps

for mice, poison for rats, fearful

of the stoat, worst of all, the fox.

All this care and attention for

three or four months. Soon,

a plump pair are chosen, necks

wrung. Hands smart from the cold

as they are plucked, gutted,

and sold from week to week

to the butcher in town.

My mother has money of her own

for the first time. Sundays,

we have chicken for dinner.

CATHERINE PHIL MacCARTHY’s six books include Emblemas (USP, 2024) and Daughters of the House (2019). A graduate of University College Cork, Dublin University (TCD) and Central School of Speech and Drama London, she received the O’Shaughnessy Award for Poetry (2014) and The Yeats Thoor Ballylee Poetry Prize in 2023. Her poems are featured in The Canadian Journal of Irish Studies (CJIS, 42, 2025). www.catherinephilmacccarthy.com

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Theory of Countries

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a crucifix reflected