Gila Woodpecker

As my colours dissipated,

I lost more of myself, 

but in the security of my plainness,

in my black and white feathers,

the restraint of my stripes,

I thought that existence might be easier

with the no man's land of my own inner desert

between us, and the spider I plucked 

from you, now my eight-legged pet: 

this internal distance grows

as if it was alive itself.

And I began to consider what else I might 

avoid, pause, null or cancel

without the abrasion of a face, a voice,

a touch. Though I have adjusted

to your succulent bark that you have adorned

with thorns for me to grip to; you are sharper

and I have become cynical,

I churr and scroop, I still knock,

my love is persistent, at least, and I sing

that this life is not like a song.

Image from wikimedia. https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Gila_woodpecker_on_Saguaro.jpg