she who is quiet amidst the noise

here in the forest, there is a-waiting
a little bird, quiet and sweet
she does not quite understand
how they could have born her

these foreign beasts

where she is quiet, they are so noise-filled
where she is soft, they are so stiff
where she is dullish, they are so brightened
quite in the feathers, not in the head

she loves to dance now, they love to strut so
she does not feel
it is the right place

but she will put her sweetest feathers out
and hope that the others might one day see