The Ant Farmer

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    The Ant Farmer

    William called himself an ant
    farmer. Not a farmer who is an
    ant but a man who farms ants.
    No on thought him much full with
    wits, though he knew himself full with
    wisdom planting-wise. One thumb-
    deep into the earth, two to four ants,
    to be sure, cover, and water
    daily with sugary nectar. Then the
    hill swells tall feet high, a sure
    sign that the hollow roots are
    setting well far-deep. Spring
    and the fields of shining hard fruit
    hanging from trees capable of
    bearing three time their weight
    march next. A generous harvest
    sold to the Ant-Eater family down
    the lane,who were really the
    Aardvark family who ate only ants,
    which William grew best, they
    always said.

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    Poetry is what is lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    LeeryRoscoe’s Poems (9)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    The Ant Farmer 0
    Nay 0
    Plan B 1
    Falling 1
    Darkened Psalm 1
    Discourse 0
    Dust Dance 0
    Madame Barreta 0
    The Line 0