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(wc 162)


I heard it. Distant
but there, above my denial.
The sun was just rising,
that’s when the cock crows.
(Coincidence, only
happenstance.)  I was

I needed food.
The sound of coins, clinking
money changes hands.
Small change, no silver
Just enough for bread.
I take the loaf, (tear it
and taste), shaking my head,

My eyes averted.
I know him not.
Jaws clenched, voice quaking
Surely not I.  (Do I really
know him?)  It’s morning,
Cocks crow.  It  could mean
anything.  It means

Head covered,
cloaked from the light
I paced by the gate.
Strangers gaze.
Head down, disavowing.
Mistaken, all.  Surely not I!
(I loved Him more!)  Beneath my feet,
crumbled rock.

I hurried my steps,
the crowd stirred.
Withered will, I fall.
Rock cuts to bone.
I see him led out the gate.
He sees all.  He saw me.
Loving eyes, sharp as stone.
He nods. The air is split.


For all – I wish enough. . .