When The Cockerel Cries Poem by Mark Heathcote

Sing your hearts out when the sights of the stars
would seem to run for cover, go make nests
leastwise the owl does her daytime seminars
sharpening those talons; while food digests.
Listen to life's nuances—enchanted
Each song is a dawn roll call to life, renewed.
'We've made it through the damn night they chanted
the wars ended come, leave your solitude
feathered friends, rejoice the fox in her den.'
It's time to begin again. Let's take to the skies
when the cockerel cries, stir his peahen
taken, under his wings, head, waving crest
a red sun breaking; draw on your yolk's blood
cockerels strut; do your stuff in the mud.