The Archaeology of Ants

"In a dry year...The restless and the hungry follow the seasons."

We don't really know
What we think or feel.
Therefore, let's be pleased
With ourselves, content
With that which finds us.

Let's read happiness
As given, not built
Crumb by crumb, or snatched,
Antennae flailing,
From life on the run.

I like being calm.
I like the bright sight
Of a tired morning,
Of any old moon,
Of my own eyes smiling

Back from a mirror
That could use cleaning
But works well enough
To tell me I am
A busy creature

Who has kept moving,
Somewhat randomly
Apparently, but
With purpose. I like
The sun on the cliff.