Instinctive Labor

Folder: 
2009 Poetry



Walking through the land of giant flowers,

it labors from morning till night.

One purpose in life is all consuming,

as it carries its burden of the quest.

Sustenance for the nest to serve the queen,

then to turn around again and again,

repeating the instinctive march of eons.

The wayward little ant goes on till

some massive foot turns it into jelly.






Author's Notes/Comments: 


Written for a picture challenge

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