The Song by Dee Martin

I heard a whip-poor-will this morning
singing outside my window
and wanting to join the chorus
I stepped outside in the still dark
and found myself on a strong branch
felt the roughened bark
against bare feet
spreading powerful wings
I took to sky and joined
morning dance
we wheeled a pattern clear
then came together circling
round and round

"Whip-poor-will or common nighthawk?" (photo by Flickr user Ric McArthur)

in that exquisite moment
I knew I was exactly
what I was supposed to be
a sense of deep knowing
welling up inside needing
wanting to tell the world
opening my throat
to let the joy escape
but a whip-poor-will can only sing
the song she has been given

Dee Martin has held jobs in manufacturing plants, a mental institution, and a bra factory. She has been married for 30 years, raised two great kids, and presently works as technology contact in a high school. In her heart of hearts she is, and will always be, a writer. You are welcome to stop by her blog and have a latté anytime at

Enjoy this piece? You can find more like it in our Amazon store. All purchases made via our aStore help support our writers. Prefer to shop indie? Grab a copy of our NOIR anthology from Smashwords instead.