Woodpecker

Winter, long and melancholy,
has kicked up its feet;
Stretched out, it’s here to stay,
an unwelcomed guest in the home of my soul

Poetry reminds me of life beyond this gray
I crave the greens, blues, whites, and yes even grays
of the places I used to live and love
recalling the girl it feels I only used to be

Then one day –
barely perceptible, a milder breeze on my face
a little sunshine through the clouds
a woodpecker drums furiously on a tree

Buds push through the dirt, too early
yet stubbornly seeking light anyway
The earth turns, we stretch towards the sun
I stretch toward tomorrow

And the woodpecker reminds me,

Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat
He insists on now,
insists on cracking open the moment of today.

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