The Ant

I just brushed an ant from my patio table. I looked down at where I thought it might have landed. I did not see it and assumed it fell through the deck boards. I suddenly realized it might never arrive where it once was. I’m not sure how long an ant lives but it is a possibility.

I have been brushed from where I once stood. Unlike the ant I was quite aware of the fact. I felt the sting of my landing and had a clear view of where I had been. At first I only wanted to return to where I once was. I longed for most of what I was and had. Living without, my gaze eventually fell on other points. Like the ant I started my journey over. I can’t say I simply brushed myself off. I had many people help me to my feet and point me in directions I could not see. I am unsure of my destinations but I am satisfied with where I find myself most days. I could still have my eye on where I was but it would only interfere with seeing where I am.

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