The ant is standing
approximately two inches away
from a pastry crumb
dropped at 10:32 this morning.
The ant lifts its head up briefly,
swivels it around, and then
heads to its left, towards a pebble
equidistant with the crumb.
The ant crawls on top of the pebble,
then crawls over it,
then walks around it one and ½ times,
then walks past it, towards a clump
of grass, isolated in this new yard.
Three blades, rising at different tilts towards light,
but all young.
The ant spends some time in the grass,
a long time, for an ant.
Two minutes, three seconds.
It then begins to emerge from between the blades,
head still, antennae moving slightly.
It is looking directly, we think, at the pastry crumb.
Interestingly, by the time the ant remembers
its original destination,
that destination point has shifted inexorably.
The air is heavy and dark.
A drop begins to fall towards the earth.
Author Discusses Poems