Watching the woodpecker at 5.30 am
He appears like a paper bag blown onto the feeder,
punching his beak time and again into the peanuts.
The minute he sees me he’s off in bouncing flight.
Today, it’s early, and I’m sipping tea in the kitchen.
He arrives, the boldest flash of red, black and white.
I’m still so he stays and hammers away, takes his fill.
The mist is heavy, paints the sky and trees in greys.
The woodpecker shakes the charcoal into colour,
a prayer for the day ahead, black, white and red.
Pat Edwards is a writer, reviewer, and workshop leader from mid Wales. She hosts Verbatim open mic nights and curates Welshpool Poetry Festival. Pat has work published in magazines and anthologies, and in her three pamphlets.