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Murmurations
Visitations

Whippoorwill

5/27/2022

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​Whippoorwill, 
Standing, still. 
World goes by, 
A buzzing fly. 

Sing to me. 
I’ll dance with thee 
Out on the limb, 
Discarding him 

That aches me. 
Broken, breaks me. 
Sends me skidding, 
Side-rail hitting,

Into the trunk. 
My will was sunk,
But then the song
No more raked wrong. 

Whippoorwill, 
What did he do, 
That rises you to rally?
Upward from the valley

And from the sting, 
With outstretched wing 
And swollen breast.
This mind’s behest 

So longing. 
That’s right, 
No wronging. 
I’ll take my beating 

Heart’s wet bleating 
Out to the wood,
Where poor Will 
Once stood. 


2/9/22
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