I’ll Be Damned

If that woodpecker didn’t tap out a message for me
as bark shattered all around his bill, clattered
to the sidewalk (this was a city woodpecker — I am
a city person) that morning as I walked my kids
to school and then myself to work. He said, or
she said, something about bugs running like rivers
inside the tree, or something about the sun that day,
or thanks for stopping to watch and listen, even though
we were already late. I don’t know — it was hard
to make out. I don’t speak woodpecker. It was
indistinct, though staccato. But I know it said
something to me, the bugs, the sun, or the tree,
or maybe just to itself.

Advertisements
Standard

2 thoughts on “I’ll Be Damned

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s