high hopes
the sun moves in warm squeaky slithers of light
and i have acres of work still to cover today
yet i rest my head on this crumb-coated table
to watch an ant drag his dead friend home
i remind myself that he feels no grief and is,
in fact, simply gathering supper… i can’t help
but admire his tenacity and try not to inject
humanity into mother nature’s mandala
my heads feels as heavy as the body of resistance
that refuses to fit through a crack in the floor
and somewhere in my mind a song starts to play
about the sky and an ant and a rubber tree plant
and i think how easy it would be to stand up,
end the struggle unfolding before me, a squash
and a crunch and futility becomes forever but
i’m tired, oh so tired, and i kind of like the view
.
.
.
April 25th, 2012 at 9:23 am
A poignant vignette, but lovely said aloud. Any time you’re gettin’ low, stead of lettin’ go, just remember that ant.
April 25th, 2012 at 9:48 am
Evocative. I felt my head on that table with you. And I could see the ant carrying his friend. Stunning imagery Kelly. xo
April 25th, 2012 at 11:26 am
‘futility becomes forever’ was the land mine the poem was building to for me, the core. You did this so well with wonderful descriptors. I was the Executive Director of a nonprofit arts center for 7 years and just this morning learned that it will close its doors. This poem resonates with me so much today. Thank you.
April 25th, 2012 at 7:21 pm
now i will be thinking about a song of long ago in my memory of an ant, the sky and a rubber tree plant… what was that?
i am reminded that ants are delightful to watch, in their ambitious efforts to move things…and they do. i would simply give up.
tilda