Friday, June 19, 2009

Poetry Friday -- Gracehoper


Poor little ant, you work so hard and save
so much. So practical, constructing mounds
of earth and stones and food and wealth; so brave
in most things, coward where it really counts.
And I the grasshopper -- you wouldn't take
me home to show to Mother, I who squander
all that Nature gave me. What I make
I toss away, I seem content to wander
on the earth you make your home beneath.
I am boat-rocker, dancer, and nose-thumber.
You'll have shelter from the winter's teeth,
while I can flourish only while it's summer.
Yet I often think that by your grace
I might find summer always in one place.

[early 1979]