Of Whippoorwills and the Truth

[aerickson]

Where I live in Alabama; a Southern state in the USA, we have a night bird called a whippoorwill. He is named after the song he sings over and over and over never missing a beat. Last night I sat on my back porch for a couple of hours listening to one, he never slowed down for a second the whole time.
I wrote this for my Mom's 91st birthday party coming up this Saturday. If it needs obvious repairs please feel free to suggest.

Of Whippoorwills and the Truth

I have sat on the porch on
a warm Southern night?
listened to the Whippoorwill tell me
who he is,
over and over and over?
I could feel that melancholy pull from
those simple memories of my youth?
The recollections of my rebellious past
reminding me of the time my Mama
spent hoping and praying that
I would one day find that
elusive buried treasure of contentment.
All the times my dad tried
to show me the way and I
stubbornly shrugged my shoulders and walked away.
Now I struggle to look myself in the eye because
I hear the Truth much more clear today,
as it imitates the Whippoorwill;
I Told You So! I Told You So! I Told You So!
Oh the bitter sweet memories of those
warm Southern nights, as the Whippoorwill continues
to remind me who he is,
over and over and over.
Just as the Truth continues to remind me,
I have more than I deserve,
over and over and over.

I like the subject of this poem very much. If I may, I would suggest changing the tense of the poem a bit, might help it flow better. I always try to limit extra words to decrease the clutter of a poem so that the true meaning of the poem can come out. I think this poem could do with some decluttering. Your idea is very clear so you don't need a lot of extra words to help the reader out. Also, not sure about the questions. It throws the reader a bit. Does that make sense? I've redone your poem below to show you what I mean by fewer words. Hope this doesn't offend, toss out if you don't like it! Great subject and some really great lines. I love the repetition of lines throughout the poem.

I sat on the porch on
a warm Southern night,
listening as the Whippoorwill tells me
who he is.
Over and over and over.
That melancholy pull of
memories;
recollections of my rebelliousness.
Reminding me of Mama
hoping,
praying,
I would find that
elusive buried treasure: contentment.
Reminding me of dad
trying,
wanting,
to show me the way, and I
stubbornly shrugged my shoulders, I walked away.
Now I struggle to look myself in the eye because
I hear the Truth
more clear today,
as it imitates the Whippoorwill;
I Told You So! I Told You So! I Told You So!
Oh! The bitter sweet memories,
those warm Southern nights, and the Whippoorwill continues
reminding me who he is.
Over and over and over,
Just as the Truth continues to remind me,
I have more than I deserve.
Over and over and over.