Here you will find thePoemCock-Crowof poet Kenneth Slessor
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.
