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Kenneth Slessor - Cock-Crow
Work rating: Low

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.
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