This earth

I think this may be a good call

To live by: the pileated woodpecker’s

chuck! chuck! chuck! chuck!

Semiquavering through the air,

A reverbing woodwind this majestic

Avian who raises his beak from his perch

To call and call and call away

At the lonely air, seeking a companion

To help him choose the proper hardwood

To help him choose the proper spot

To make his nest, to make his home,

The sound his beak makes above me

Turning from the chuck! of the mating call

To the pack! of his hammering away

At sweet birch, at sumac, at tall oak.

Tough work this work of love.

O, wonder. O, world!