Petros

I am a bull in the year of the pig
Heavier than daylight and solid on rock
They may call me Petros.

Calves of bronze and heels of granite
Untouched by flames from the molten core
They call me Petros.

There is no trace of my future becoming
There will be only footmarks in the sea-washed sand
But – and but – I am Petros.

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