Ant Traps Poem by Lois Read

I am watching
a column of tiny ants, single file
marching across the floor
at the door to the sunroom.
There must be hundreds,
thousands even,
as the parade goes on
uninterrupted
hour after hour
emerging from the
door jamb at the left
disappearing into
some minute crevice
on the right.

If one of them was to pause,
look up
and see me looming there
would he think me a God
checking to make sure
he was doing his appointed thing,
marching obediently
across my floor?
Would he run? Break ranks?
Try to hide, like Jonah?

Perhaps he should-
as I, from my omnipotent perch
have put in a call to housekeeping
for Ant Traps.