Morning Melody

Morning Melody

Something earlier this morn caught my ear,

Some type of whisper, a melody, a song it wasn’t clear.

But as I stood in the low-lying early morning fog,

I heard the sound, it was neither a dog nor a frog.

I held my breath several times in the dim light,

To remember the sound from times now out of sight.

It played upon the wind slightly, bringing forth memories,

Of times now faded, written upon pages, of bygone centuries.

Ordering my pet to refrain from moving,

I waited for only a second for the sound so soothing.

In some bush or perhaps sitting on the ground,

Came the melody that made my heart pound.

It was a whippoorwill not far from my house,

Calling out in the darkness, alone there was no doubt.

For they sing to attract attention, a mate perhaps at long last,

There was no reply to the invitation, no answer to questions asked.

I only heard it a couple of times this morning,

The melody, the wordless chant it was cooing.

Each time that I’ve heard it, these nightly visitors,

They’ve rekindled memories of similar critters.

There was a time over the years,

That the songs were missing inspired tears.

Yet, in the early morning hours walking my pet,

I hear the cooing, a melody once again sung without regret.