ants in a crack where stones met
on the walk near the door...back
there...i'm pointing
a pile of sand, an enlarging crack
i set my foot ready
to sweep the sand pile
into the growing hole
"what are you doing?"\
her tone stopped me cold
"I was...uh..."
enough said by me, evidently
"they're working there."
i looked again and it seemed so.
ants have things as we do...to do.
let them.
.
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