Whippoorwill
There is no greater mystery to me than the whippoorwill
He stops at my home each April and September - never late -
On his way to North or South to who - knows - where and who - knows - why
But as regular as clockwork in his search to find a mate
I know he's there because of his nightly three syllable calls
A lonelier cry you will never hear - at least I would pray
For twenty years I have listened fascinated to this call
I have never seen the bird as he vanishes in the day
But the mystery - I have never heard an answering call
Sometimes he cries all night long - silence is his only reward
Of course it could be he only stopped to say hello to me
What more fitting purpose than to cross paths with a lonely bard
Could this be the very same bird that visits each Spring and Fall
Unlikely that a single bird would live for twenty seasons
But then it wouldn't be a mystery without some puzzle
Poets and whippoorwills seem perfectly matched for some reasons
7-10-20
Contest: Bird
Sponsor: Constance La France
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