A phalanx of tiny ants
some going one way
some the other
in single file, fast
as if on a mission
known only to them
quick-step across my patio.

As I watch,
when two happen to meet
there’s a momentary
pause, a touch
before they hurry on.
A fleeting kiss,
an elbow bump?
Do ants have elbows?

Carolyn Phillips lives in Princeton and convenes a poetry group at the Lawrence Senior Center.

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