I went to the woods to listen to the pileates
drumming on their calling trees, calling in their mates;
where chips of chiseled wood were scattered on the snow,
I found bright cavities high up in the denning trees
where soon i'd see the hungry young waiting to be fed,
and when at last i topped the hill with sunset in my eyes,
i saw my own den there below, smoke rising from the flue,
where young of my own breed had spread their wings and fled.
