[Knitting A Conundrum]

I wrote this in 2003, but I think I am going to work it over, because my image of + Peter's motivation has grown:

Peter in the Courtyard

A nightmare night,
a night of shadows,
he sat there by the fire,
cold,
alone,
afraid,
yet drawn to this place of danger
by a desperate desire to do something.

The darkness of his soul
how it matched the darkness of the night
as he sat by the fire
not listening to the jibes
of those who sat near him.
He stared into the fire
and waited.

His world falling apart,
he thought there was nothing left but fear.
"No, I don't know him," he said,
the words escaping his lips
in an unstoppable reflex
of self preservation.

Fear and anger and anguish,
the darkness of the night,
the pain of waiting,
"No, you are mistaken!"
he chokes on the words, perhaps,
torn in two.

The third time with curses,
and then he sees
the eyes that know,
the eyes so tired, so sad,
the eyes touch his
with loving forgivness
and his soul plunges into the final darkness
as the cock crows.

[Soaring Feather]

Wow this is chilling, the way you have captured the thoughts and feelings of Peter.


Very good as it is, but you're the poet.

[WayzataJOHNN]

This a truly moving poem, I can think of no truly lonelier man than Peter as the cock crowed!