Surveying the wood
Across a bird full lawn
Maybe music could
Represent a dawn
Where species were drawn
And as one stood
The spawn of beast and pawn
Sharing a primal mood

Is there a remedy
In the substance of sound
A fantasy from melody
Shared by all around
Pulses that pound
Cadence of step that’s foxy
Barking of a hound
All conversations by tonal proxy

The birds sing
But at a price
Though granted flight by the wing
Getting lost in variation is a device
Impossible to splice
To the music they bring
Yet pawns and beast they entice
Hearing a musical something

Words and tunes
Are disabilities
Regard ancient runes
Relics of forlorn civilities
Not dogs’ proclivities
To answer croons
Even cats’ inabilities
To howl at moons

The pawns are speakers
Semi animals because
They need sneakers
Having long lost their paws
Chanting with empty jaws
Pawns think all are talkers
But animal claws
Draw mere vibration from composers

T. M. Shorewick