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.
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