Hordes of tiny insects swarm
about the fresh new buds
on a spiky desert Yucca
in their complicated dance of being.
With lifetimes lived
in nanoseconds
they have no time
for etiquette and manners.  
The need for moisture is supreme
and the flowered stalk
is somehow lacking.

Bonanza ! A new source is
discovered and the wiser gnats
race in to drink
but only meet resistance.
There’s moisture
in my eyes and nose
but I refuse to share it.  
They stage their ancient battle moves
but find a moving target
as I create a windstorm with my hands
and hurry on my morning way.
Leaving all the the little gnats
to find another source of liquid.
ljm