When the moon weaves its way above

When the moon weaves its way above (unfinished)

When the moon weaves its way above

When the moon weaves its way above
When the sun has forsaken day
The nightingale begins his evening song
Desperate is his vocal array

Throughout the night he serenedes
The meadow with his vibrant song
Whip-poor-will tail [?] at night's eye
Beckons dawn with a sunrise

Morning oriole chimes confident
Chants his watch chants his vigil [?] daylight
The woodpecker signals at his post
Pecks out a tune onlly he can write

Again the moon weaves it way above
And the sun silently fades away
A nightingale takes his twilight stance
Croons to sleep another summer day


brg
7/1/80