Colony
A humming of head & thorax, an assembly
line to forage leaf drop clip crush mold
combine. The youngest plod around inside the oldest
bustle about outside the smallest hitch rides
on grass & leaf while the largest pull—
a green palanquin, insect-powered.
Umber bodies form hibiscus on pavement, squirming
center, slow-rolling filament, pitchy anther—no bees hum here.
Later the rough circle narrows into a bamboo stalk
with tough stems knobby nodes occasional
branches marching in midday heat.
Under oak, honeydew slice sweats as bronzed
legs & antennae explore, then morph into a jagged gash
in its flesh, a scar that brings out its celadon glaze in evening’s
powdered blue. Then they trickle up & down rattle
acorns prowl the pulpy temple of leafy chambers
& strange symbols in cleft & furrow.
During the day, claws move in slow motion to liquid
gold beams of sun, as if ocean-bound, sway of tide, kiss of salt.
Formicidae irony—in moonlight they move quickly
scuttle lift scuttle rolling grass blades
into jade orbs, mandibles clicking time.
6 thoughts on "Colony"
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This is lush! I especially love the descriptions of movement as the poem itself moves through the day.
Thank you, Nancy!
I really enjoyed this. It’s a tactile read, and full of close detail.
Thank you!
Such lush detail moves us through the poem.
Thanks, Karen!