The passing cars blow
gently against my legs
as I sit
in a suburban shelter - waiting
for a bus.
Solitary ant, moving
cautiously
across the cement
Weaving desperately, searching
for the path to continuance.
All wrong motions
Blindly amidst traffic
manipulating into safe crevasses
the massive wheels roll over without
consequence.
Four lanes down
He looks up
A bird overhead
Soaring gracefully
A sky without clouds
Fearless through air
The ant, desperately
wanting his wings.
To talk to the air
never thinking again
This earthbound reality
Dreaming of heaven
Neglecting his trials
A man driving a taupe
Ford Astrovan, never saw him.
Continued driving
into the distance
To pickup the kids from
soccer practice
across town
The bird still glides
in the ocean above
oblivious to the tradegy
on the ground.
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