//------------------------------// // Birdsong after Rain Night // Story: The Spike Poem Anthology II // by Zephyr Spark //------------------------------// A string of chirps punctuated by a short vibrato that repeats every three seconds A talk back and forth in short, single words A distant echo of sounds farther away that can only be heard if listened to The vibrato stops repeating the talks back and forth dominate A sharp wind pipe toots and takes center stage It replaces the vibrato with its own repetitions A distant vibrato returns the sounds of the sharp windpipe Then both fade into the chirps A flat squawk barely pierces the talk back and forth A high shrill yelp peters out A whistle, the first I’ve heard all morning, is gone before I knew it was there They chirp from east then to the west Returning each call A higher vibrato only once, then several minutes it repeats in regular tempo It takes the stage of sound and dips updown updown updown updown in sixteenth notes Then it takes longer to sound, but keeps going The others speak in short staccato This whistle continues long after I thought it would stop Distant sounds batter the vibrato But it remains the lead for now A distant indignant whistle, a double quarter note A soprano’s short half notes Grow louder and louder and more and more They talk back and forth amidst the vibrato and begin their crescendo The vibrato remains strong as the multitude of voices begin to echo But then dims and fades completely from ear a moment, and now takes place in the distant chorus amidst the talks back and forth A chorus of dissonant sound that crescendos every minute and decrescendos with subtlety that eludes mortal ear Adding a new voice to complete their complete inharmonious harmony They never stop their eternal symphony