
Lazy birds sing what sound to be questions,
Trilly lilts angled so oddly in time.
Shush. Hear the hurrahs?
Winds schuss a course of boughs.
Waves atop etchings on sand
Erase traces of what once was.
Beyond, there come the loggers,
Mechanical, Om-like, spun chorales,
Mantra for flat-felled forests:
Erase traces of what was once.
I rush the treeline insanely
Unable to draw enough air
To support the bellow I want to import,
The reply I want to thunder.
To the wood pigeon, grand thrush, paradise parrot,
the heath hen and laughing owl,
the parakeet, grebe and island rail,
piopio, Kauaʻi ʻŌʻō . . .
My chest heaves, I’m a front-row mourner.
Hot eyelids strand gummed tears.
I see the world through rainbows
Cleaved cleanly through
My optic nerve.
I purse my lips, find the bird call in me,
Arpeggiate soulful lament
Cleanly without glissando.
I beg:
Take heed – just fly – just fly away –
Find places we cannot find!
But my song is lost as the world surrounds.
The crescendo envelops, it’s near.
The steady march, the goose step advance:
Erase traces of what once was.
Leave no trace of what used to be.
From above and away I hear lonely cries –
ʻi ʻŌʻō
ʻi ʻŌʻō
ʻi ʻŌʻō . . .
© Carlos Chagall, 2013

beautiful.
Thank you, Susan. —–Chagall
I just listened to that bird call–it is haunting, tentative. Too bad the world is not full of it.
To think that the song is forever gone from existence is very unsettling. I’ve played the call out in my area and the local birds go silent, apparently baffled by what they’re hearing. Thank you so much for your read and your listen. —–Chagall
Reblogged this on Alphabet City and commented:
For every bird that you see or hear today, or that ever flew over earth. Peace & Love. —Chagall