I microwave mine.
I listen to her impassioned rhythm
While I stumble towards the bath.
She begins her day with a song.
Mine? Ten more minutes. please.
Flitting from tree to tree, she hunts for food.
While coffee brews in leisure.
Woodpeckers don’t seem to have bad days.
Unlike most of us.
Mistaking the neighbor’s gutter for wood doesn’t seem to bother her
I wouldn’t take it near as well.
Simple is the life of Lady Woodpecker,
The original headbanger
Rat-a-tat-tats of a small bird, remind me
To take to heart
The simple task of enthusiasm.