Ant
February Poetry Adventure Day 6
supposedly the ants protect the peony I would rather the ants not hitchhike in my bouquets
Come Spring, a line of ants will wander across my bathroom floor.
Fireants
You learned early on to beware
those mounds of dirt
in the yard, dotting the grass—
fire ant mounds.
If you accidentally stepped on one
the ants would swarm and sting.
Their bites raising welts that burned
for an eternity, hot and hard,
not like mosquito bites.
But if you were careful
you could poke them with a stick
and watch the ants swarm,
the protective workers carrying
the eggs and babies
deeper underground.
Once when I was a teen
I leaned against a mesquite tree in the park
and suddenly a million firecoals landed
on my arm.
The thing about fireants is they will
crawl all over you, so small and subtle
you can't feel their tiny legs
and then they will send out
some kind of chemical signal
a smell, only they can smell, I think,
and, in a coordinated attack,
all bite at once.
Thanks, as always, to Petra Hernandez for hosting the Poetry Adventure.
You can read other ant poems here:
ah yes, fire ants.... very endemic to central texas.... awful. That really captured the experience!
the first one made me smile!! what an image!
YIKES to those fire ants. Shudder.