Listen to poem:
Sound Prints
It’s a cold and damp, early-winter night in New Zealand. People are crouching in the dark throughout the forests and farmlands of Northland, They are here this night to coincide with the waning moon, so moonlight doesn’t disturb any hoped for visitors. Scattered, shivering, silent and hushed through the long night, they sit, quietly, and listen. The sound they’re all hoping for is a high-pitched, guttural croak of female kiwi or piercing cry of males looking for a mate. A sign that Aotearoa’s threatened, iconic kiwi has returned to patches of forests that had fallen silent. [Play the sound to hear what they heard]
Sound Prints
in silent forests
plaintive calls of male kiwis
herald a return
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
