White Ant

It tip-toes around Or buzzes above Its wings trailing behind Like a bridal train But unlike the bride Walking towards new life Your life is short and uneventful In a few days You will be dead. As if you wish to deny your fate You lift you bridal train It transforms into a pair of wings Which you spread towards the skies And then you Fly. Minutes later you’re back On the ground Staggering around Your beautiful train is gone You were a hopeful bride Now you’re a desolate widow And your delicate gossamer wings Lie next to you Like a torn Useless Train Beauty that was once your Is no one’s. In the last minutes of your life I should like to think That you’ll look back fondly On your short But glorious Flight.