One-Track Oblivion
There is a gentle breeze this morning blowing a melody in the chimes.
The wisteria is waving a sunny greeting.
Two sunlit flowers, in all their bright redness,
are peeking at me from between the porch rails.
The vines intertwining the rails opposite the effulgent beauties
are offering their petite, lavender blooms.
There is a large mosquito hawk poised daintily
on the very tip of the crepe myrtle branch,
her wings a mere suggestion against the pastel sky.
She is preparing for a feast.
The crickets and the birds are over-laying their songs.
I guess they’re just oblivious to one another.
There are teeny-weeny ants scurrying together
in a long, fast-moving line across a beam on the porch.
Such determination and purpose!
To where are they all going?
When I look closer, I notice that the ants are running in two directions
crossing each other along the way.
Are they also oblivious?
Like the crickets and the birds,
they appear to be self-absorbed in their little, one-track minds.
Mesmerized by their one-track oblivion,
I wonder if they know they are not alone.