An Ant on my Glasses

Sitting on the grass feeling tiny tickles,
Dull green blades caress where my bare skin escapes its cage,

Lie down and sink into natures carpet,
Kind of itchy but more comfortable and timeless than grandma’s depression era thatch,

My ears twitch from an unfamiliar touch,
Relax, the wind is moving the blades to rub my ears ‘till I sleep,

Drowsily I stare up at the yellow/blue sky,
Light refracts through the cracks in my lens and stings my eye,

A little black dot crawls across my vision,
Resist fear and let him be; I’m here and so is he,

I remove the lens and replace him on the grass,
Contented is he to be at home here, surrounded by food, friends, and life.

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