Poetry

What the Ant Said

By: Alimson Esther

I am tired of humans
so I walk away,
resting my feet on sincere
grass. I crouch
like a baby afraid of the
womb. My fingers brush
away the liquid that
pools at my eyes.
‘Did it rain on you?’
the petals ask.
‘Do you close, waiting to unfurl?’
the buds ask.
‘Stoma sweat?’
sympathise the leaves.
‘You are gathering,’
stated the ant.
I tell them I cry
because
everyone says for me to,
be a man.
‘Well, why don’t you be a man?’
ask the petals.
‘What is wrong with being a man?’
the buds question.
‘Do you not want to be a man?’
the leaves sympathise.
‘You should get up and be a man,’
the ant states,
walking away.
‘Are you an ant?’
I ask the ant.
He raises his thorax
with antly pride,
and says,
‘I am not just an ant, I am a worker!’
‘You see,’ I say,
‘I am not just a man, I am a woman!’

Categories: Poetry

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