pass the pale pearl larva
up the Everest of my swing set pole
like a baton in a relay race
a processional of glistening offerings
headed to the mountain top
a sacrifice to the god of the small
and the mighty
they have abandoned the mound
for a pilgrimage in search of sky
how sure footed they are
carrying translucent sacks
twice their size up and up
as if their ignorance of gravity
had made them immune to it
the pace speeds as dusk descends
soon it becomes a race
between these purposeful insects
and the turning of the world
but this large and lumbering planet
has never stood a chance
in the face of such zealous efficiency
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