Just a horrific dream, thank God! Some memories of childhood have grown dim,
but not the memory of this one nightmare.
In my worst, most surreal childhood nightmare, my little sister and I were playing near a rain-swollen creek, in which—in a flash--she floated facedown, drowned. Then, already paralyzed, I was attacked by hundreds of loud, vengeful whippoorwills. Even now a sound sweet to others is haunting to me~~whip poor will. 38 words, 17 syllables Date: June 28, 2020 entered in A Memory Poetry Contest Sponsor: Line Gauthier
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