Cry Of The Whippoorwill

Written by: Donna Jones

The mist seems to be covering the cool water this morning
Just like my grandmother's quilt lying across her feather bed
The sun is breaking dawn, on the horizon brightly shining
As I hear the last cry of a whippoorwill and wonder what it said

The nighttime creatures have found their place for sleeping
In their burrows and on highest branches, some now are perching
The daytime comes alive with the sounds of all of those
Who simply prefer life in sunshine I suppose

The faint light of the stars turns into sunrise golden hue
Then the sky above goes from darkness to pale blue
The mist disappears as though it had never been
Perhaps just being absorbed back to where last night it began

The trees gently wave as if to say hello to a new day
White clouds roll across the sky in an entertaining way
Making pictures as they go for all who take the time to see
What to make of each is up to you and me

Now the sun starts sinking as the breeze begins to still
I can see the moon peeking over the far distant hill
I once again hear the lonely cry of a single whippoorwill
The mist re-appears and with stars the night sky does fill

┬ęDonna Jones