Words and the world passing by; how it sings to me; how I clamour back.
Ants. They show me ants
Marching across the path
Suddenly a way to connect
With the one that avoids me
We see an evicted queen
Or perhaps one starting out alone
“They usually die”
I’m informed
Mate, don’t I know it.
We watch the incredible, impossibly straight lines of workers
Guarded by winged soldiers
They carry bee corpses
Crisps
Slices of leaf
Held aloft like
Comically large shark costumes.
They can carry
Many times their own weight
I know you do too.