I hear him
Making holes again
Hollow places in dead trees
He’s very old, you know
Prehistoric!
Pterodactyl-like, I think
With his red crest
bobbing up and down
He seems very proud
Cocky, I’d say
His drilling stops
Oh, I hear him
Odd cuk wucka sounds
She makes him wait
I know he’s listening for her
Finally she returns his call
His pecking resumes
Strange fellow–
that pileated woodpecker
Feasting on ants and beetles
Deep in the old forest
where there is plenty of dead wood
The hollow tree is his drum, you know
He plays a driving beat
Latin rock, I think
He’s ancient, you know
I hope I see him
Andrew over at Past Tense reminded me of this old poem.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
Author: Don Iannone, D.Div.
Biography
Photographer, poet, teacher, complementary medicine provider, interfaith minister, and former economic developer. Holds a Doctorate in Divinity, Master of Divinity, Master of Mind-Body Medicine, and Bachelor of Arts degree in Anthropology. Clinical certifications in Reiki, guided meditation, life purpose coaching, and spiritual counseling. Author of 12 books, including two new books in the contemporary spirituality field. Learn more here.
Contact Information
Kosmos Consulting and Research website: https://www.donaldiannone.com/
Visual Advantage Photography website: http://www.visualadvantagephoto.com
Flickr Photo Page here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/don-iannone
Contact Don Iannone by email: diannone@gmail.com
View all posts by Don Iannone, D.Div.
Poetic Alchemist 
Thanks Pat, Dan and Polona. We love our woodpeckers too, UNLESS they engage in the behavior Pat referred to.
and an excellent poem it is!
love it still 🙂
I remember this one!
I love watching woodpeckers–unless they’re cuka wuckaing on my house. Enjoyed!
Floots: Thanks. Yes, it is about us as well as the birds.
beautiful observation – on birds and us 🙂
thanks don