.
Ants
.
no one to play with or
talk to, nothing
I know to do, a hot summer afternoon
I wandered into the Larson’s yard next door
sat on their walkway and
watched ants come up out the
cracks and ant hills
a flood of them spreading
across the plain of the
walk, and then
other ants, with wings
flew down from the blue sky
in squadrons,
a blitzkrieg attack–
a mighty struggle began,
ferocious as Hastings or
Waterloo–
the Queen of the wingless crew
rolled over her winged-foe
like a tank
the dead and dismembered piled
as the battle raged and
the afternoon slid into shadow:
I did not hear
my grandmother
the first time she called
me
in to supper.
.
.
About the Author: Wayne F. Burke‘s poetry has been widely published online and in print. He is the author of six full-length poetry collections–most recently DIFLUCAN (BareBack Press, 2019). He lives in Vermont (USA)
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Image Credit: Image from “Histoire naturelle des fourmis, et recueil de mémoires et d’observations sur les abeilles, les araignées, les faucheurs, et autres insectes” Courtesy of the Biodiversity Heritage Library
As It Ought To Be 
Some of the most unappreciated insects existing on this planet. Insightful observation of the battle. Video Games? we didn’t have no stinking Video Games when we were youngsters. We observed life, it’s wonders and tragedies. You transported me back to a simpler time. Thanks
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