"Doctor Dolittle's" Fee

Silent. A thousand lifetimes -
and more - His lips knew
the speech of a million thoughts;
cat, mouse and rat, squirrel,
coyote and raccoon - a list
of songbirds too long
to recount - lips
knew all the thoughts
their throats
could tell - and he spoke;

spoke 'em all.

October nine, two thousand
nine - what time, what
a thousand deaths
could ne'er steal,
Modern
Man's medicine stole -
the voice of the one
some
called "Doctor Dolittle".

A body to work
must
pay the price. The price?
the voice that spoke
animal.

This new lease on the world
at the cost of whistling,
of chirping; in stealing
twenty-six bones
from Bones, a body briefly
was returned to a man -
a voice silenced.

Silent; coldly he watches, never
to pass the greetings again.
Muttering, an old 'coon
slides past, insulted,
not by presence, not
by light, by a man, by
the silence
of Bones.

_{(Wednesday, April 27, 2011 @ 00:52)}