I started thinking about all the species of birds we already lost, whose songs are now forever unheard. Unused branches, and our guilt. Does it eventually fly away? The music became lighter in tone than I hand imagined it would. This audio poem thing seems to have become a thing now, perhaps I’ll make more!

Here’s a depressing wikipedia article on the subject.

Here are the words:

I don’t know the names
Of the unsung birds
I don’t have the words
For the loss

And it only hurts
‘cause I know they were
That they flew
‘cause of us

I imagine them blue
With ornate long tails
I imagine their feathers
Their chirps and their wails
From the reeds
Of uninterrupted streams

…

I don’t know the nests
That did not get built
But is there a tilt
to the branch?

Where they could have been
That now carries the guilt
Of the unstarted lives
Without chance to be spilt

It shifts
A rustle of the leaves
An avalanche
As it lifts