Lent Poems 10: Cold Was the Night

And Peter,
by the fireside,
warmed himself with lies,
though shivering
more with each
burning arrow he fired
into his side,
wincing and hiding,
the thrice-told lie
taunting in the air,
joining the chorus
of the rooster’s crow.

Published by Matthew Pullar

Teacher, writer, blogger, husband, father, Christian. Living in Wyndham in Melbourne's west, on the land of the Kulin Nation. Searching for words to console and feed hearts and souls.

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