Mad Bird

At night I lay with Whippoorwill song
And every star, conversation had
With some were short, and others long
But secrets were ceased by the prong
Of the interrupting bird, gone mad.

And soon those stars begin their retreat
As they fade away night after night
Taking with them my thoughts, discreet,
I drift off to dream, resting sweet,
Only to awake with such despite

The Whippoorwill cares not I’m weary
His song, and happy tune, no more.
What once was pleasing, made dreary
Through foggy, morning mist eerie
Another restless night encore.