i was walking on grass
i notice a fresh mound
littered with white sand
i step on it and caves-in
turn red and swarming
red ants; painful sting
i walk close to running
i heard stories; scary
a chicken eaten alive
a child bitten on a crib
they're moving northward
getting use to winter cold
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem