A stump of a palm

once tall and grand,

no fronds to dance and sway,

or decorate her head,

Had shone bright,

outstretched ‘neath heaven’s rays;

dull now, bearing

a gaping wound.

Hollow

but for an echoing sound that says goodbye,

and not hello;

an empty, aching shell

devoid of light.

Barren

Wait!

A flutter of red

*Rat-tat-tat

*Rat-tat-tat-rat-tat

knocking from within the dark cavity.

A woodpecker emerges,

poised at the edge of its nest.

Life,

Shrill cries from within.

Hallow.