Monday, August 14, 2017


Near the curb, sitting on the ground,

I felt something on my left thigh.

Reaching down to brush it away,

I saw a large, black ant

Land on the brick

Next to my left foot.

A determined creature,

The ant crossed brick after brick

Occasionally dipping off the surface

Falling into the gravel pressed between each brick

To form the road.

I wondered how the ant could

Successfully cross this

Uneven path of pedestrian traffic,

But the large, black ant safely made it

Up the curb onto another grassy area.

Where someone else might

Feel something of their leg,

Brush it away and start the ant

On another busy path.

(I wrote "Disturbance" while I was sitting on a curb, waiting to listen to a lecture during our week in Chautauqua, New York. I was impressed by the ant's determination to cross the street despite people walking.)

1 comment:

  1. A disturbance that turned out to be no disturbance at all (for the ant). Your poem makes me think of that proverb, "Go to the ant, you sluggard; consider its ways and be wise!" You're no sluggard, but you definitely know how to turn to God's creation and consider its ways. You are indeed wise and eager to pass along your wisdom and insight to others in so many forms, including poetry. Thank you for sharing this moment with us--a moment so easily overlooked by others but was pondered deeply by you.