The wind whispered while winding its way
Around the sentinel tombstones;
Yet the silence made it deafening
For naught would speak in beastly tones.
A month ago, cold earth clods crumbled
Upon her corpse, laid to rest amidst
Frogs burping, squirrels chattering, and birds chirping -
All just asking, "Why silent, good Miss?"
She had a gift of beastly whispers,
Where, through grunts and squeaks, she could divine
What needs, that before, the animals had to defer;
Finding them to be furry friends, oh so fine!
Her death was ghastly and happened suddenly
Through the actions of her employer,
A museum caught up in greed and gluttony,
When they learned she was a betrayer.
You see, she was tasked with building collections,
But she balked at expanding the ecology exhibit.
Her fear of loneliness won out, and she warned them,
Of traps and poisons that would freeze them forever...
A question lingers on today's whispering wind -
How did the museum find out, how'd they win?
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