I don’t know what’s gotten into Charlie. You’d think he’d be tired from all that snowblowing, roof raking and shoveling, but he keeps cranking out one poem after another. I guess he has more time than usual to think while he’s moving all that snow around.
We’re almost through February folks. Hang in there.
Construction’s Afoot
Listen, you hear ’em?
Right through the wall?
Tat-a-tat-tat
Is their tireless call
Construction’s afoot
Up there in the trees
Woodpeckers turning them
Into Swiss cheese
Look at the damage
Those woodpeckers do!
Some of them holes,
You can see through!
“Tat-a-tat-tat,”
They hammer away,
Building their nests
On a cold winter’s day
That limb to the right?
All chewed to the core?
One good gust of wind,
It wouldn’t take more,
To break the thing loose
And send it on down
Smashing to pieces
All over the ground
Maybe in front
Of some innocent guy
Mowin’ the lawn
One day in July
Who stops in his tracks,
White as a ghost,
And utters aloud,
“Damn, that was close!”
He’ll wonder, perhaps,
As he looks to the sky,
If that branch wasn’t some hole-y
Sign from on high
“Tat-a-tat-tat!,”
Some woodpecker shrugs,
“It’s only us, and we’re
Lookin’ for bugs!”
That’s it for now. Catch you on the flip side!
Hear Ida Tell It: Charlie’s On a Roll