WOODPECKER REPORT NO. 27

by Jnana Hodson

wherever I settled was clothed in haphazard greed
despite their soldiers of avarice

 

I barely celebrated
a pristine trout stream snaking through a desert
not just the city, but prairie and orchards
boxed off by developers and merchants
listen, there’s green valued more than money
sunlight glints as gold and silver on pristine water
all along, home’s more than a regular bed
where you dive from impatient dreams
or swim to the night window
to sing with flowery crickets
or a whistling radiator
tears appear, knowing
there must be better ways
than the ones we were living
long cloaked in loneliness
or arrogance before you gave me feathers?

at last, I no longer unlock the door
returning from the office
the fragrant table has unfurled all summer
before retracting, yes, to inward landfall
the colors of snow
you, too, breathe beside logs draped in flame
even in a tattered bathrobe, see
how you’ve made me a rich man, indeed
in our battle of life

~*~

That’s what Woodpecker said.

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