Dodos & Other Extinct Birds: new poetry

Two new poems for you today: Meisho's Dodos by Mary Soon Lee and At The Natural History Museum by Bruce Boston – both touching on the topic of extinct birds. (And a rare appearance of the word discombobulated in a poem.)

* Mary Soon Lee grew up in London, but now lives in Pittsburgh. She has won the Elgin Award and the Rhysling Award for her poetry. You can find her at http://www.marysoonlee.com and on Twitter @MarySoonLee

* Bruce Boston's poems and stories have appeared in hundreds of publications, including Analog, Asimov's, Amazing Stories, Weird Tales, Strange Horizons, the Year's Best Fantasy and Horror, and the Nebula Awards Showcase, and received many award, most notably the Bram Stoker Award, a Pushcart Prize, the Asimov’s Readers Award, and the Rhysling and Grandmaster Awards of the Science Fiction & Fantasy Poetry Association. http://www.bruceboston.com


Meisho's Dodos
by Mary Soon Lee

Inspired by Ria Winters and Julian P. Hume


Welcome to the Kyoto Imperial Gardens.
Kindly do not photograph the dodos.

As you can see, we are overrun by them.
Stay on the paths. Careful where you step.

In 1647, a single dodo landed in Dejima,
a curiosity presented to the shogun.

Discombobulated by a lengthy sea voyage,
the dowdy bird failed to impress.

On a whim, the underwhelmed shogun
foisted the dodo on the emperor's sister.

Meisho perceived the intended insult,
yet sympathized with the dodo's plight.

The bird, like Meisho, had been shuffled
hither and thither at men's commands:

Dodo-san from its distant island,
Meisho from the Chrysanthemum Throne –

If you look beneath the cherry tree,
you can see a fledgling in that nest--

Meisho befriended the displaced dodo,
neither of them free to fly their fate.

With time and patience and fair winds,
she contrived to procure companion birds.

Year by year, bird by bird, egg by egg,
the palace grounds filled with dodos,

leading to the situation we face today.
Thank you. The gift shop is on your left.

​
At the Natural History Museum
by Bruce Boston
 
Pinned upon a board
as if they are in midflight,

or still for a second
alighting on a broad leaf,

creatures born for flight,
trapped in a glass case

until they are discarded,
consigned to the dark

of some storage basement
for newer more exotic

and colorful specimens.
Only those now extinct

remain upon display,
valued for their rarity,

their colors dimming
through the years,

a final testament
to their transience.