Friday, October 18,2013; revised October 23,2013
A Woodpecker Drumming
Listening today to a Salish elder
Talk of life in the great Pacific northwest
A Pileated woodpecker deep in the forest
Began to drum
His rhythm disconcerting incessant familiar
The drumming echoing reverberating hypnotic
Soon morphing to rolling thunder
Catching me off guard as I slid back in time
To that evening in that far away land
The dense jungle foreboding
Alerted by the faintest of sounds
The oppressive silence shattered as I squeezed the trigger
Firing burst after burst
Red tracers swallowed by the dark
Pungent smoke slowly dissipating
The mottled green once again quiet
When suddenly opposite my position
On the other side of the perimeter
The thunder began and quickly rose in tempo
Until I realized where I was and pulled back
To a woodpecker still drumming
Tommy
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem