Are you listening to the rain?
It was different decades past
when all the world was my back yard,
and the back yard was all my world.
A child, I loved to watch the sky,
the stars so very bright at night
around the half-moon peeping down,
waning to a slender crescent.
I listened as larks sang, doves called,
and imitated “bobwhite” quail.
Summers lasted so long, it seemed
that life might go on forever.
Now, winter cold has wrought-iron claws.
I squirm in its relentless grasp;
wishing again for summer days
to lie out under stars once more.
– – – – – – – –
Note: “Whenning” is a made-up word – I think – which stands here for “time spent remembering when”. Also, a bit of information for those who don’t know: when quail call to each other, one calls “Bob White” and the answering call is “Bob – Bob White” (Note pause between the two Bobs). As a child I didn’t know which was the male and which was the female, but if you called one you always got the other in answer to it.