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