Ant

Ant

 By: Husam (Sam) Salman

 

It was like the moment of desperation had passed

Hope fleeted with the trash and the laundry that

Welled from springs of filth and remnants of yesterday

Where no one cared anymore, hoarded in ‘heaven’.

There, in the mid-century modern where time remains

Eternal, he sat there, idly churning and tilling at

The weed lodged in the pipe.

It may have been the weed, or the moment

But all I could fix my eyes upon was the ant on

The floor.  How did he get here? The –why? was

Apparent. We sat there in the apartment Smoking weed

As I watched the ant crawl aimlessly on the floor.