Cry of the Whippoorwill

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 ©Donna Jones