The Lonely Ant

I’m an ant in a colony, but I cannot work. 

I cannot work because I’m missing two legs on one side.

The other ants want to kill me

because I am no good to the rest of the colony. 

Upon learning of their plot to take my life,

I muster up every ounce of strength I have

and slowly crawl through the tunnels

and up to the surface while the others

attend to the queen and feed the young. 

I have escaped, but I am alone.

Loneliness does not consume me now,

for I am free.

Alone is good. I am happy. 

I live for a while, feeding off of earthworms

and the carcasses of other insects that have died.

I hide in the loose dirt at night.

I am alone and I am free. 

One night as I sleep, I’m awakened by a sound. 

Could it be a brother or sister?

Do they desire a friendly word?

 I come out of hiding to see who it is. 

Sure enough, it’s a sister, and she’s staring at me. 

With my two front legs, I drag myself

to her with a smile. She’ll keep me company

and we’ll talk for a while. To my dismay,

she desires no words. She locks her jaws

around my neck and drags me back to our home. 

I’m home now, but I’m paralyzed and dying. 

I’m the food my siblings will soon consume. 

You can try to run away from it by denying it,

but loneliness will always find you in the end,

and it will swallow you just as it has done me.

• From my first poetry book, Restless Reflections, February 1, 2018