Percussion

 
While walking back to the house,
a tap-tap-tappity-tap-tap was heard.
Thinking that my boots were speaking,
I stopped walking. 
Still, the tap-tap-tappity-tap-tap sounded.

Thinking it was my breathing,
I stopped exhaling.
Still, the tap-tap-tappity-tap-tap sounded.
I breathed again.

No way to tell from whence the sound came,
I stood silently, turning in all directions.
The tap-tap-tappity-tap-tap was indistinct.
 Nearby, I saw the new leaves unfolding.

Still, the tap-tap-tappity-tap-tap sounded.

Underfoot were greenery and dandelions.
In the trees, the jays were nest-building.
The wild cats were grooming in the sunlight.
In the far distance, the highway was humming.

Still, the tap-tap-tappity-tap-tap sounded.

The air was chilly though the sun was blazing.
Still too early to plant the summer seeds.
The farmer was in the field checking for weeds.
The frogs in the ditch sing mating songs.

Still, the tap-tap-tappity-tap-tap sounded.

And then, in a flash, I saw it!
A red-headed woodpecker bobbing at the bark.
Melanerpes erythrocephalus.
It's breeding time again.

The tap-tap-tappity-tap-tap continued,
but things had to be done,
and time was passing.
I said farewell.

The tap-tap-tappity-tap-tap still sounded.

Left to its urgent mission,
The red-headed woodpecker teaches that
 power and resilience are the spine of life.
It's springtime, and life continues.

Tap-tap-tappity-tap-tap,
tap-tap-tappity-tap-tap,
tappity-tap-tap-tap-tap.
Woodpecker percussion.

©Ellen Pepper 2026