Poa Tree Poems
IMMENSITY
- by
Dichter1
To anthills we confer catastrophe As earthquakes, unpredictable and dire, Destroying infrastructure and the nest, A random threat, far worse than wind or fire; An unexplained, strange enmity they feel (Our size must render us unguessed, unreal) From time to time is great disturbance felt (Ants have no ears and thus they hear no sound) A massive sudden motion of the air, Repeated shocks now rock those underground. Some great swift object blocks the summer sun And all the work of ant-months is undone. Great mountains rise, of timber, stucco, paint, That generations of their kind assailed In search of food, of water, and ant thrills; Some plaster cliff no other ant has scaled. But, sometimes, near their long established path A shed appears with deadly aftermath. That shed contains an elixir of joy Whose lush aroma bids them all partake. A source of food beyond their wildest hopes, That leads them to all other fare forsake. They think that this must their whole hill supply. But swiftly then, their nest begins to die. Some learned ants believe they're quite alone; Their pride, heroic anthills built and wrought. Yes, other insects share the world with them, And abstract theories give ant-sages thought, But to think creatures far too great to see Is superstition and absurdity!