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The cock crowed three times
for Judas but only silence crosses
my side of the line.
He spins his feathers
to the wind, never admits
that betrayal comes
on pussy feet of promise.
I think I hear a gurgled crow,
but he only reassures himself.
I am not convinced.
It is amazing how you are able to use just a few words to take me on a long and complex journey.
this is what you excel at, these little mysteries that have varied solutions.
I am still working on the the title.
Gurgled crow! Love that!
And the nod to Sandburg-- an excellent little poem that begs to be read several times. Good work, Anna!
Fly