leaves marching

drinking this tequila makes me think
of the day when I looked down and saw
a line of leaves marching beneath me
on the road

of course it was an army of parasol ants
in the desert going towards Vegas
their mighty insignificance an antidote to
the red sky

with a liking for clever creatures i
walked on tiptoe face screwed with
the concentration of not stepping on
their frail cavalcade

its funny really to remember this
when i've never even been there
i suppose i must have read about these things
in a book

FIRE 22, p 194; Helen McGregor