Upon learning a woodpecker’s tongue

loops around its skull

Upon learning a woodpecker’s tongue loops around its skull

I went outside and sat on our stoop, the fresh paint
filling my nose. We’d discovered rotten wood where the rain leaked in.
When our children learned to walk, my days were overcome with fear
of their soft skulls against mahogany edging —
mind your head, mind your head, mind your head, I’d peck,
wrapping my arms around them, bringing them in close.

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