Those Team Players by Marianne Brems

Those Team Players

You only understand ants

once you know what it is to share things,

to share what you have counted and saved.

They share pheromones with the colony

to communicate the remnant of a tuna sandwich

under a picnic table.

They fill their second stomachs

with food to bring back to the nest

for others in the collective.

They poke with their antenna,

rub their legs against themselves,

to report danger to their nest mates.

They divide the labor, queen as egg layer,

workers as foragers, caretakers, protectors of the nest

for the benefit of all.

No fences around property,

no locks on their doors,

no backs turned on neighbors.

Yet we curl our lips,

click our disgusted tongues without understanding

and fail to accept the lesson they present.