these sounds they make with their small mouths are strange:
it’s singing—not just words—communicating
in swiftly flowing melodies exchanged
or slower hymn and verse of celebrating.
the range of chords these creatures can combine
is second only to their inhibitions
that spring up from the ground like trumpet vines
or daisies bloomed they try to make a wish on.
though we profess to have unequalled taste
there’s nothing like a “voice” upon our planet
and with it goes our understanding braced
against those who still sing but have not landed.
while we may have our rituals and muses
these beings give all accolades to music.
Prompt: Write a poem from Mars. Describe ordinary things in unfamiliar ways, as through the eyes of someone from another planet unfamiliar with our culture/objects/emotions. NaPoWriMo