Woody Woodpecker

By Abbie Johnson Taylor

Copyright 2022.

“Listen to that,” says Dad,
as we walk through the park one spring morning.
I’m a teenager,
and my father is walking me to school.
We stop for a moment.
I hear it, a power drill without the motor.

“That’s a woodpecker,
boring holes in that tree over there,” Dad explains.
He points, but I can’t see.
Preoccupied, I wonder why I should care.

That day after school,
I’m watching a cartoon on television with my younger brother.
Again, I hear the motorless drill,
this time followed by Woody Woodpecker’s cheerful tune.

Why is he boring holes in that tree?
Why is he so happy?
With limited vision, I can’t see the screen.
I listen while brother watches, says nothing.

I’m amazed at how cheerful Woody is,
despite the curveballs life throws his way.
Maybe we could all follow his example.

Note: The above poem was published in the June 5th issue of The Weekly Avocet, which can be downloaded here. You can click the link below to hear me read it.

 

Woody Woodpecker

 

A photo of Abbie smiling in front of a white background. Her brown hair is cut short and frames her face. She is wearing a bright red shirt and a dark, flowy scarf swirled with hues of purple, pinks and blues.