Ant Hill
(a Puente)
Like little ants scurrying
here and there
trying to carry
more that we can bear,
we follow sugar trails
of our own desires
until our industriousness
becomes its own burden.
~ then we burrow in the ground
in holes dark and deep,
following labyrinths,
feeling part
of a bustling community,
until we lose sight
of the sunny world
and go to sleep, believing
there’s something more.
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