Peter in the hall

There is no fixing of rock cracks or
splitting props/ A talent to renovate
was her hate-flail

until no thick skin was left – my sure
claim to her tenet [& altars of loving
acts] was denied/

Roosters repeated her prayers aloud –
by sunrise refuted three times/ Cock-
voices peal ‘cross

her home town on every hour/ Damp
rags won’t absorb late laments – one
tear of repentance

was not enough/ I cried like a child in
mediations & gave her an easy ride – I
gave up others too

because routes of affection will not –
not for me – find a split rock enough –
all faults broaden

with annual frosts & droughts/ Denial
came [in triplicate] in misspelt letters/
My trust is severed