05-07-2014, 09:23 AM
Childhood memories,
of warm southern nights;
A faded reflection on
the rhythmic squeak of a
front porch swing
gently swaying in
cadence with thousands of frogs, cicadas, and crickets…
a raucous melody of pulsating rhythm
whirling through the thick night air…
the whippoorwill adds the harmony
of his name:
"whippoorwill, whippoorwill, whippoorwill”…
Such is the music of warm southern nights,
the harmony of life in concert with time.
Childhood memories;
Has the old man blinked?
the creaking swing now
fades into time,
the old front porch
vanished into days gone by…
in its place
asphalt, packed flat in the sun,
sizzles in the heat
under the ever-rushing traffic,
the honking horns
and wailing sirens
blocking out the song
of the thousand-frog choir,
the scream of the city
drowning out the gentle meter
of the
whippoorwill…
so goes the music of warm southern nights,
the progress of man in concert with time.
of warm southern nights;
A faded reflection on
the rhythmic squeak of a
front porch swing
gently swaying in
cadence with thousands of frogs, cicadas, and crickets…
a raucous melody of pulsating rhythm
whirling through the thick night air…
the whippoorwill adds the harmony
of his name:
"whippoorwill, whippoorwill, whippoorwill”…
Such is the music of warm southern nights,
the harmony of life in concert with time.
Childhood memories;
Has the old man blinked?
the creaking swing now
fades into time,
the old front porch
vanished into days gone by…
in its place
asphalt, packed flat in the sun,
sizzles in the heat
under the ever-rushing traffic,
the honking horns
and wailing sirens
blocking out the song
of the thousand-frog choir,
the scream of the city
drowning out the gentle meter
of the
whippoorwill…
so goes the music of warm southern nights,
the progress of man in concert with time.

