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There Was an Ant

Today, I ashed my cigarette

on the ground, but it kept

burning, and there was an

ant

when I went to squelch the embers

with the heel of my boot.

 

As my foot passed over it

like God's hand over man,

I had a distinct impulse

to **** it.

 

--but nothing else, no reason;

so I didn't.  In fact,

it would have been just

as justified, just as

reasonable to have said

Good morning

and just as nonsensical.

 

And though he likely isn't

a listener of music, and

though he is not

likely to spend his days

studying the works

of Yeats or Whitman,

or to ponder spirituality

or philosophy, as men do,

 

I think he may have even

more of the Lord's favor upon him

than I.

Request permission to use this poem
Written by
karen-elena-parks
American
Published
Nov 21, 2012
Lines·Words
28·128
Notes

(c) KEP 2012

Permission

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