Dear Yellow-Bellied Sapsucker,
I read that your kind make tiny holes in a tree, piercing its skin to find what is soft and tasty below. Sometimes you like what you find so much that you keep coming and coming, leaving lines of ruptures that slowly kill what you love the most. I am thinking of these tiny holes (moments) that together cause irreversible damage.
Do you whisper a tiny 'I'm Sorry' for every scar you leave behind?
Do you whisper a tiny 'I'm Sorry' for every scar you leave behind?
