Powertrip
Another one crawls by, even larger than the others.
Alone and seeking sugar or something sweet, the ant circles, then lingers by my feet. I sweep them off the counters and pluck them from my clothes. Literally, a tiny nuisance, they walk right under my nose. I move my shoe as if to squish, but this one must have made a wish. For I pause to question why, I am deciding it should die. Who am I? What is my lie?
Telling myself, I must be rid
of this innocent insect.
Guess what I did?