The Whip-Poor-Will
I hear in the evening oh, what a lonesome sound.
I can never know where he’s at, he just seems to be around.
Is it a broken heart that makes him seem so down?
Or, is he just a faker, sitting up there in his coat of brown?
Does he ask for sympathy, in a bird sort of a way?
What does he do with his time in the middle of the day?
Does he quietly do his work and only cries out his plight?.
Or, is he a vagabond, sleeps all day and stays up at night?
Has anyone ever seen him as he hides in that tree?
There are so many things about him that are a mystery to me.
But, late in the evening when I hear him sing the blues,
I have to guard my heart or I’ll be crying too.
Copyright © Patrick Kelly | Year Posted 2022
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment