Dear Editor,

A poem I wrote in memory of my youth in West Virginia:

Wipper Will Song

I hear the call of the wipper will
Down in the valleys and into the hills

The mist in the evening as dark sits in
On the ole country porch with next of ken

The music they play into the night
The ole wipper will sits just out of site

The call is so lonely but takes us back
To our youth and this old wooden shack

The swing on the porch ,the quilt is still there
Handmade by a grandmother no longer here

All the children grown some moved away
But none have forgotton where we used to play

Sing on wipper will your song will live on
For the ones that remain and the ones that are gone

Janet Lavon Savich

Copyright 2004 Janet Lavon Savich