In the spring sun
a lone caterpillar struggles to move
in greening grasses and fall's leaves..
Tormentors arrive these ants
riding with desire and possibility
for their own timed sustenance..
Out of sight now..
Will the caterpillar transform
enduring these thwarting aims
and give someone a glimpse
of beauty in time to come..
Or...has beauty been witnessed
this struggle in a moment of
springtime warm...