A phalanx of tiny ants

some going one way

some the other

in single file, fast

as if on a mission

known only to them

quick-step across my patio.

As I watch,

when two happen to meet

there’s a momentary

pause, a touch

before they hurry on.

A fleeting kiss,

an elbow bump?

Do ants have elbows?

Carolyn Phillips lives in Princeton and convenes a poetry group at the Lawrence Senior Center.

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