Second Thoughts
by John C. Mannone
After supper, a bunch of us
had second thoughts about
our friend. He said to trust
him, that we couldn’t come.
If the bold plan was going
to be successful, why not
include us? He set the way
to follow. We walked
to the river, talked things out,
then prayed in the stillness.
Exhausted, we fell asleep
but soon awakened by soft
mutters turning into moans,
heavy pleas piercing the dark,
begged over & over, his own
second thoughts. I cracked
my eyes, his silhouette veiling
under the pallor of a full moon.
Before I could fall asleep again
a rustle in the brush, a murmur
of voices, the growing clatter
of a foiled plan like bad dreams
besetting us. Someone else
who had second thoughts
came out of the crowd
and kissed him. I cussed
after they made the arrest,
watched as they led him
away but I did not follow.
I had second thoughts
. . . until the cock crowed.
John C. Mannone has poems in North Dakota Quarterly, Poetry South, Windhover, Braided Way, Spirit Fire Review, Credo Espoir, Heart of Flesh Literary Journal, and Scriblerus Arts Journal. He has collections: Disabled Monsters (Linnet’s Wings Press, 2015), Flux Lines: The Intersection of Science, Love, and Poetry (Linnet’s Wings Press, 2021), Sacred Flute (Iris Press, 2022), and Song of the Mountains (Middle Creek Publishing, 2023). A retired professor of physics living in Knoxville, Tennessee, he edits poetry for Abyss & Apex, Silver Blade, Liquid Imagination, and American Diversity Report.
