The Ant-Lion

      His dusty body goes backwards to be dust.
      On dust more frictionless than ice
      A frantic slipping ant will make us wince
      To see a crucible mind no more than claw;
5     A mind that harbors no dark thought to appall
      But shapes his perpetual falling wall.
      He does not jump for justice or to be just.
      Summer's first rain-drop rolls in dust a world
      Whose wet invites all wetness hints of growth
10    (Such a world may we recognize in drought).
      Silent and dry, he emerges like a roar
      And makes the molten tension burst,
      And drowns himself with water, nothing more.
      And a something unrepeatable is learned.

 

From the collection "Assembling the Earth"

Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]

More information available on gregglory.com.