Ants
Jan 12, 2021
The watchful eye of the termite guard
Glints in the sunlight.
The colony has moved inside the tree,
Away from predators and judgment.
What crafty scout beckoned them
To eat the elder’s bark?
What gift a tree,
Rotting and collapsing,
Has made to bold, new life?
A woodland pact signed by gnawing teeth,
On wet, dark grain.
