Slowly...
Slowly slowly creeping up the vine
How many ants will die in my lifetime?
How many crave the sun deep below the earth
And care nothing for the vine the mind is telling them to search?
Grapes grown over
Over over over
Crushing wooden posts and stealing sun from most
My watermelon plants.
How many questions circling uselessly...
And how many ants never get the chance
To see the end
Of a daunting, pointless task.