ant5

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flecks of

the bronze grasses

sharp in your silk

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all that’s left of it

on the front hood

an amber circle

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jay hops around

complains about

the missing wasps

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the almond husks

wait on the tree

for ants

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the almond ant

looks small away

from the almond

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the day of

the impartial

harvest

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messages you left

for yourself you

can finally read

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small talk

while you work

on my body

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we talk robot armies

in the rain of

morning

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the spider can’t

wrap the wasp

fast enough

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