the summer heats up as the colony
returns to the tunnels, carrying dead bugs
all the way through the grass jungles
to the chambers where the white larvae are nursed.
yet, where are you amongst the troops
but on top of this bud along the border
of a broken sidewalk, licking its oozing nectar.

will you be staying until it's in full bloom
allowing you to hide idly in its pink petals?
was it worth it: climbing up this stem for a rare summer treat
while others were too scared of heights and to fight for it?
will you remain there still when the rain starts falling
and everyone else is safe underground?
and where will you be when pieces must be picked up
after a giant foot stomps on the hill, or when the queen
has passed on and your all brothers and sisters are in mourning?

there are other flowers sweeter than any nectar
growing under the hill; sweeter than dandelions
daisies and roses whose aromas tickle the antennas
and bloom with greater bliss for more than one season.

a colony does admire a worker who carries a load
bigger than what their jaws can bear, traveling miles
beyond the hill, then turning back to continue the chore,

for there is more honor in leaving your mark in the tunnels
than dwelling in a peony that doesn't need an ant to bloom