they turn my world
upside down
but I love
watching ants
go marching in
hard shelled saints
scurrying
as April's rain clouds
begin to pound
big wet drops
like basketballs dunking
splattering fates
scattering wee ones
so far below
.
I remember
admiring
their fine parade
marching in
with somewhere to be
always
wanting to be one of that number
but they followed a different path
their heading
bearing somewhere
I never could follow...
they'd dance away
slipping from view
slipping in through cracks and crevices
vanishing into stone
and to this day
I cave at the thought
_______
Copyright © 06/05/2024 by Christy Munson. All rights reserved.
About the Creator
Christy Munson
My words expose what I find real and worth exploring.
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