Mowing

I have stepped    the soil
Of every damp foot    this lawn --
How many fields    more?

Ant Hill

I pulled the weed that held the hill of ants--

it was a common blade of grass.

Unplugged, they all erupted and

I raised the green, un-rooted sword, and gasped!

They bit me on the ankles,

and danced across my limbs.

I brushed them off with both my hands. They fell,

split open on their hill

like soldiers dying on the field

or filaments of plums dropped in the sand