Whom I meet on my walk of a winter day,
You’re busy inspecting each cranny and hole
In the ragged bark of yon hickory hole;
You intent on your task, and I on the law
Of your wonderful head and gymnastic claw!
The woodpecker well may despair of this feat—
Only the fly with you can compete!
So much is clear; but I fain would know
How you can so reckless and fearless go,
Head upward, head downward, all one to you,