The ants don’t parade through the bathroom this
Summer in their annual, persistent passage to the
Kitchen Cabinets. Cabinets which have no discernible
Draw, no dietary possibilities, no holy grail of
Dirt or sugar or anything. Chemicals and pans
Reside at the journey’s end, poor quarters for the
Weary ant.

Like an abandoned spice route from the
East, the tiled bathroom floor seems lost in
Time, lessened for its decreased activity,
Yet no more nor less clean for the awkward
Paucity of unwelcome travelers. Expectations deeply
Rutted leave strange gaps when they
Are filled.