Foreign Aid
Standing at the sink
Trying to wake up
Noticing an ant
Crawling up the wall
Wondering when she ate last and
Speculating about her solitary mission.
Scooping her up on a business card
Carrying her to the back porch
Crumbling up a Trader Joe’s corn chip
Offering her a tiny piece of it
Watching her slowly walk away
Contemplating what I’ve just done.
2 thoughts on "Foreign Aid"
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We-l-come
To
Budd-hism
Buddhism, maybe. But she’ll be back with all her buddies. Enjoyed this poem.