Cock-a-doodle-where?

A sense of direction?
No, I have none.
I follow my shadow,
my back to the sun.
If clouds hide my guide,
then I follow my nose,
like a weather cock wandering
where the wind blows.
With no sense of direction,
I pay a high cost,
condemned to meander,
eternally lost.

poem © Celia Warren 2013

I notice I blipped another weather cock last May. And my first weather cock photo appeared here. They seem to be becoming an occasional series!