More rust than red,
the ant probed
from the cave of my sock
to the pink slope of my calf,
steep and barren — three links
of a ball chain, six legs of hunger.
Yesterday, I became alpine.
And with an icy gust,
I flicked it away. Yesterday,
I climbed a mountain.
And looking out upon the green
middens below, cleaved
and wandered, I realized:
I do not belong.
Not here, not here.
Image: Nica Lorber on Unsplash
Sweet and Bitter Greens 
So touching
Thank you.
D
I can relate to ants, we’ve got them holed up in our KITCHEN. Of all places, they chose the kitchen…
None of us “belong”, really. “Normal” shouldn’t be a word. We’re all outcasts of societies that people can’t see.
Slam, you know it!
D