In the Midst of It
By Gregory Djanikian
Featured Art: “Titania Dreaming” by Mateo Galvano
The woodpeckers are making holes
in the eaves of my house,
destroying some small part of it
while I count the wood chips
falling from the sky.
Isn’t it lovely that the natural world
can be so companionable,
keeping me frazzled and deeply alert?
Yesterday afternoon, the sky turned gray
as if it were going to thunder and rain
though it never did,
what a turnaround.
Sometimes it’s all you need,
a little reprieve, a surprise
to make you think
it’s not all ruthless
even as the shots ring out
in the heart of the city.
It’s the life we’re given
the pulpit managers say,
some of us having more life than others.
The woodpeckers are still at it,
doing what they are born to do
and I’m throwing tennis balls at them,
I’m squirting a jet stream
of water from my hose.
They disappear, then cheerfully come back.
There’s no manual that says
everything will stay as it is.
Look at the sky.
It’s as clear as day.
In another hour,
I might have to bolt the doors and windows
against the hurricane onrush of all that keeps me weathering away
from those long expansive afternoons
when I was young
and the wind was a feather in my hair.
Gregory Djanikian has published seven collections of poetry with Carnegie Mellon, the latest of which is Sojourners of the In-Between (2020). His New and Selected Poems will appear in 2025 from Green Writers Press.
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