What Happened In The Piney Woods Poem by Callie Carroll

I knowed we shouldn't of went that way.
That trail weren't meant for no VW Bug.
But I didn't stop you, didn't even try.
Now muddy ole me's in a worrisome rut
counting the whippoorwill's call
while you sleep like an innocent
oblivious to it all.

It ain't a fer piece home
around the hill
and over that ridge,
Where Mama's waiting
a'wringing her hands cause
she knows what a mama knows.

I'm six steps towards twenty
and your sleepin' body's warm.
So I patiently plait my hair and
listen to the whippoorwill's song.
Soft wings part the air,
which rings with prophesy,
'Whippoorwill, will, will...'
'round and round my head.

This much I know right sure:
Its treasure's nestled in the grass,
Mine- precious, by my side.
Ain't fearful in these piney woods,
I thank what brung me here.