A feather from the Whippoorwill
That everlasting -- sings!
Whose galleries -- are Sunrise --
Whose Opera -- the Springs --
Whose Emerald Nest the Ages spin
Of mellow -- murmuring thread --
Whose Beryl Egg, what
In "Recess" -- Overhead!
Every evening after sundown the Whippoorwill calls. Although that familiar cry is a sign that Spring has been firmly established, I've never actually seen one of these birds. Have you? The poem above is in error. Schoolboys couldn't have searched for the Whippoorwill eggs overhead (assuming they searched in a tree for a nest). Whippoorwills don't build nests, they simply lay their eggs on the ground.
The other night it sounded like the bird was on my front porch. I grabbed the flashlight and went in search of the elusive creature. I panned the light across the porch but saw not a feather. Then I heard it in the yard. The flashlight revealed nothing. Each time I pointed the light in one area I heard the bird in another. Do these birds actually exist?