The gynandromorph exists

in its own perfection

in the middle of the branch,

the center of all birdsong—

two parted whistles

ending in a slow trill;

the right mixing of cardinal

ZZ and ZW, brother and sister;

enough inheritance

to be rightly hued,

but not enough

to be brightly sung and

thus forever mute.

What good is perfection to a cardinal

that can never sing?