Every morning I awake
with the noise
my friend woodpecker makes
on my orange tree.
I sneak to my window
to see its beak pecking
the branches of my tree,
as if there was the finest food.
I hope he won't find
a sawmill with plenty of old logs to peck.
If he does, my tree will be alone
and I will be weary
at my window sill...
© 1998 Rosa Clement