I’m eating an orange at my desk
taking a break from writing
when I feel a bite
look down and see the tiniest ant

littler than lint.

Nothing else is near
no other ants
cheering him on
so, I brush him off
and continue enjoying
the sweet juice
of southern sunshine
until

I feel another bite.

Now, from the floor
back up to the top of the desk
is a very long crawl
for a creature
the size of a sliver
or
at best, an experienced quilter’s stitch
so, I look around again
and see
only a hyphen
scurrying         –

across a poem.