Anthill
Anthill
An army of wood ants ,
In Swiss Jura Mountains,
Lift up the mighty leaf
Overhead,to feed
The queen, a fairy , labors in her womb
The males carry thin paper wings, too
Female workers go without
The queen populates the colony and makes nests
Which guards protect
Against those who wish to expand their empire or have a feast
Fighting even until death
Workers watch over the eggs and brood,
forage food
And build anthills
Strange mounds
Low hills and small mountains
Inhabit tunnels and chambers
Hibernating wood ants under twig, branch and needles in rough
winter days and nights
Spring melts the bitter frost
Thousands emerge from their resting place
Bathe under the sun
Toasty with warmth
Energized, ready for work
They’re great beasts when bound together
Vibrations underfoot are echos to their ears
Rival ants ,
Beatles, bees, caterpillars , spiders,
All get a spritz of acid
All to be consumed
Queen consummates with males
And clip off their wings
Like those of flies
Leaving them scattered
To be taken by the wind
They die of hunger and exhaustion
The queen looks into expansion
Battling and killing small field ants under a rock
She conquers and some submit to her majesty
A queen’s dream: total domination
Others dare tear her apart
Marckincia Jean
Narrative
10/02/19
Copyright © Marckincia Jean | Year Posted 2019
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