THE cock's far cry
From lonely yards
Burdens the night
With boastful birds
That mop their wings
To make response-
A mess of songs
And broken sense.
So, when I slept,
I heard your call
(If lips long dead
Could answer still)
And snapped-off thoughts
Broke into clamour,
Like the night's throats
Heard by a dreamer.
Cock-crow
Kenneth Slessor
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Poem topics: lonely, long, sense, answer, response, broken, night, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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