Of Whippoorwills in Summer Sweet by Thomas Martin Saturday


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Courtesy American Players Theater, APT

When darkness falls
the silent time
song of whippoorwills
piercing break
a knife cutting
into forlorn hearts
awaiting the inescapable mortal embrace.

Though cut short in season
flowers,
colors articulated
bouquets so syrupy
the ambrosia of the ancients
a divergent immortality,

fragrant earth in woodlands drunk deep
only our shadow remains
from those summer kissed rains
of such joyful reflection
of season’s past.

Capturers’ of floating souls
seeking their place
so that we may know ourselves
intimately touched
their song
a solitary symphony.

We cross the soft membrane
Alpha and Omega’s struggle refined
buoyancy lifts our very being,
the thinness of it
by that ethereal call.

Midsummer night’s dreams,
a secret boundless place,
only the memories sweet remain.

-October Copyright 2014, Thomas Martin Sobottke as Thomas Martin Saturday

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