Did you hear it, fluting and whistling A shrill dark music - like the rain pelting the trees - like a waterfall Knifing down the black ledges?
" No hymn lifts my heart higher than the morning call of the bobwhite to the long fluting cry of sandhill cranes out of the sky at dusk.
She seems to be fluting, even now, a reed-song of home, Filling every soldier's eyes with homesick tears.
