Whippoorwill? Gotta be.
I hear only one.
Lonesome whippoorwill.
Wind blows latrine odors.
Locusts? Maybe.
Here and across the stream.
Crickets' songs are
their own communication, like
the Whippoorwill, stream, and locusts.
Cicadas sleep now
in cool night.
Long day in hot tree limbs.
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It's what I do.. .and some things I don't do
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