Friday, April 11, 2014

PERFORATIONS

That blameless-
ly 
fast rushing

blue sky 
flash-

flood
of gut-trembling

and heart-
pumping radio—so zealously
catapulted

forth from those
green-
light starved car

windows 
jackhammered-down!

careering in celebration 
through my
tree punctured street;

just cannot
seem 
to reach 

out and—animate
my punchy 
April mind

quite like the furtive 
and
intimate sound—

of one
or two maybe—black 

and red-
mantled 

woodpeckers' 
soft cautious

and easy-
listening pinging

somewhere–off-
hand—
on a neighbor's old evergreen.

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