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                                                   Maxim Zhestkov, https://media.work/

Extinction of Silence

BY A. E. STALLINGS

That it was shy when alive goes without saying. 

We know it vanished at the sound of voices 

Or footsteps. It took wing at the slightest noises, 

Though it could be approached by someone praying. 

We have no recordings of it, though of course 

In the basement of the Museum, we have some stuffed 

Moth-eaten specimens—the Lesser Ruffed 

And Yellow Spotted—filed in narrow drawers. 

But its song is lost. If it was related to 

A species of Quiet, or of another feather, 

No researcher can know. Not even whether 

A breeding pair still nests deep in the bayou, 

Where legend has it some once common bird 

Decades ago was first not seen, not heard.

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