THE TRAVELING ANTS (and Fresh Green Grass)

“The ants go marching one by one, hurrah, hurrah . . .” (Barney Singleton)

Traveling ants is a continuation of RECESS, my blog post earlier this week. (If you haven’t read that one yet, be sure to check it out.)

Having recently rediscovered the following poem is what started me thinking about all of this “recess” stuff. I wrote FRESH GREEN GRASS over 10 years ago, and I know that for sure because of the reference to being almost 40 in it. 

As for THE TRAVELING ANTS title, well, ants are mentioned in the poem and also in the RECESS blog post, so it sounded good. And then, when I was preparing today’s post, I found myself singing the ants song above. (Now, after reading this, you might find yourself singing the ant song, too!)

FRESH GREEN GRASS

Little boy
in his yard.
Small red pedal bike
with kick-stand down.
Knees to face, he looks intently
to the ground.
What does he see?

Glimmering stones.
Small ants carrying sand.
The morning dew dancing
on blades of fresh green grass.

Simple pleasures.
Innocent days filled
with wonder and joy.
Youthful times well worth living
– and remembering.

Almost forty.
Driving along
monotonous, black-tarred streets.
Recognizing myself
in that boy, I catch a glimpse
of long ago
when I still could see –

Glimmering stones.
Small ants carrying sand.
The morning dew dancing
on blades of fresh green grass.

Priceless treasures.
Blissful days filled
with meaningful moments.
A life well worth living
that I had almost forgotten.

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