On Seeing a Squashed Ant

Alas! poor creature in untimely death!

What mannered foot or shoe bid thee this rest?

Thou unacknowledged worker of the brood,

Would shoulder fallen leaf or broken root…

Yet thou art here, in speck of mangled flesh!

Oh! Life is short while Time will soon be scarce,

And one be prudent as to see how rude

Existence pushes us to seek and shoot

For stars and moon, then pulls us to despair

In disappointing scrapes and grief’s dark lair

Of loss. So treasure what you have in Now,

For soon it will be Then, and troubles new

Will seek your bright blue skies where joy once flew,

And Death will come as darkness shades your brow.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s