Take to the Sky

This morning has been punctuated
by a woodpecker, unable to think of
anything, but his duty to percussive
accompaniment. He is the one rhythm
that wakes me, that dances in my
half-sleep-weekend-mind where
the whole of Sunday lies ahead,
free and clear of Monday as though
the week may never come, as if a bird
was rapping at the window suggesting
we fly away, thinking this the best of
all possible worlds – this setting our
sights on the sky.

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