Quetzal, Quetzal, springtime bright,
Dressed in green and red and white
That’s iridescent in the light
Of morning at a mountain’s height.
Resplendent Quetzal flying free
Perched upon a feathery tree
Bedecked with ferns and mossy lace,
A forest with a different face.
Endangered Quetzal posed so proud
Disappearing in a cloud
That harbors a fertile midday mist—
A ghost no more while we insist.
(quetzal = ket-'sȁl)
