The red haired woodpecker
chose his home with great care
all winter knocking on trees
frustrated and loud
quick, little knocks
and then he flew away.
I was doing dishes in my
most usual way
watching the bluebirds and
blue jays play.
The red haired woodpecker
was oblivious to it all
comfortable in his choice
back to the wind
lovingly looking in the
knotted hole he created
in the thick of night and
quiet morn
he found his home.
Soft maple with
nubby sprouts of leaves in
sporadic places
thick trunk and reaching branches
tuft of green on top
he knocked
turned and looked at the other birds
as if to say
this is mine
I am here to stay.
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