The puzzled woodpecker

 

These days the world blast into me

In sights and sounds of horror

Shrapnel hit aches that synapses cannot locate

Muted video of dreadful sights spills all over the floor

limbs, guts, blood 

paused.

 

Woodpecker on the palm rattles like a machine gun

puzzled at the midnight sun

Tree on the street corner takes the full brunt

Burning branches raised to sky

In a trance of great revelation

Taking in the last moments of closing eye.