Sunday, April 14, 2019

Salt Puddle


I was sitting on the park bench,
my retreat after the refreshing run
With my head drooping down
arms affixed and shank hanging loose

Not bothering to wipe my brows
I let the sweat drip down
And one of them lands itself 
on the edge of the bench

One or two of the curious, playful
small black ants
check on their new-found puddle

Time ticks away, and 
a lot more swarm around it
Now, I realize that they were sipping
like it was some nectar

After a while, the pool shrinks to half
disappearing imperceptibly
alike a sinking sun,
that you cannot see descending

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