Cock-Crow Of Sky Clouds Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Somebody is waiting inside this way
Feeling some trouble and being alone
Coming to first light and giving its gray
Always on itinerant like stepping stone
Lost in the woods of hopes and new tries
With nothing to give of or from it take
Opening wounds of bottomless skies
Each in its morning that must again wake

Standing on askance and losing the road
Into the chaos of times already gone
All is its holdings and each heavy load
Something of need that shouldn’t be done
Knocking on fate wherever it comes
Cock-crow of sky clouds drifting along
Somewhere like a clock in blankness hums
Every of is tick ticking going on song

Anything of need should come in to time
Filling sideways of untaken old thought
Where is its low lay and each its prime
Of opportunities in needs getting caught
Black daybreaks beauty filling that sky
Across an open paddock of deep and dark
Where every span is with its own try
With its today and the night in new spark