Ants Marching

By
For Mom








A small meow,

The corner of the room,

My cat.



Walking towards

The sound,

Stunned,

I stop.



An army,

Of ants,

Surrounding the bowl

Of cat food.



Ants marching,

Up and down the bowl,

Taking pieces of

Food to their lair.



Drowning them,

To no avail.



Mom has a plan,

A small bowl of food,

A moat



Of




Water.





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