skittering and sure
he's found it just where
lou left it.
skipping across
the 8 cracks
like horned-sheep
over deep ravines
zagging around
the sandy pebbles
like the twitch
of a fishing line
across water.
his day 36
his strength
of aged wine.
he's ready
to take on the world
with a blade of grass.
.
2 comments:
what is that bug, there? is that who the "he" in the poem is?
it's a little, mighty ant in the pic. and the poem was inspired by the picure, so that's where the he started... but is not strictly defined by him alone. i think there's bits of him in some of us.
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