The woodpecker brash and brawny
plans his attack on the cat food,
darting up and down and in and out,
snatching at the morsels
like avian ambrosia.
Red-hooded, white-throated, bodkin-beaked,
he flings his chirruping song into the air all around him.
How like him we are,
snatching at shards of bliss,
grasping, clutching, grabbing,
as the slivers slip ceaselessly from our hands.