No More Whippoorwill by Richard Martin

No More Whippoorwill    by Richard Martin    429

I was born in the country 80 years ago.

Many days I spent behind a mule, making the garden grow

It didn’t seem like work back then

I’d work all day until my chores were at an end

 

In the late afternoon, I’d sit on my porch swing

Watching and listing to the birds sing

I’d watch until the sun brought long shows close

To me a pleasure that only the country knows

 

I’d sit and take in nature, which was all around me

And wonder at the beauty that others couldn’t see

I’d hear a Bobwhite quail and in the distance a Whippoorwill

I’d sit for hours, for all was quiet and all was still

 

Never dreaming that things could change so fast

I thought my way of life would always last

Now, when I sit on the swing in the late afternoon all is not still

There’s no more Bobwhite quail  and no more Whippoorwill

 

Cars and trucks up and down the new highway

Have an unforgiving noise that goes away

I guess for me, like the Bobwhite quail and Whippoorwill

I to will be no more, and my voice will also still