The Sun Sets on Little Ant Hills
The sun's red glow bites the horizon
and chips the mountains down to hazy ant hills
which waver and shiver in the summer heat
As tiny child's feet trample the sandy hills
frantic ants rush to repair their homes
so innocently destroyed, felled by youth
the young, uneducated masses
of the poorly kept "ghetto" houses
and the dark, violent streets of night
It's all national pride, religious anger
released to the wild streets of dusk
where children carry knives
and older brothers keep their guns
tucked close inside their belts
while sisters work the street corners
for a little extra cash
Mother lies six feet under
those tiny red ant hills
the stone marked
"here lies mother under the sunset of eternity"
No date, because it was forgotten
no name...there never was one
ever
And little Jenny's grave beside
with a tiny angel bent in prayer
spray painted on under
April 1, 2001-April 3,2001
the crack baby who never weighed 4 pounds.
Father's sitting on the wrought ironed balcony
watching the sunset while the radio blares
the evening news over his beer bottle
And the boom box upstairs drowns out the report
of two drive-bys and the air-raid
on the capital city of Iraq, killing hundreds
Tiny ants scurry over broken glass
and spilled sugar and rotten pizza crust
and ash filled inexpensive beer bottles
The sun sets over the mountains
casting its shadow over the hate crime victim
the street's prostitutes and children of the bars
and locking out the young man
who sells his drugs to the good little girls and boys
by threats of violence if they don't keep buying
And little brother walks by the public school
where dealers make their sales at night
because it's open ground for the lost boys
who spend their nights fighting there
But what of the mountains of trials
hazy by summer's hot sun
left to be climbed by the uninformed
uneducated, unfed children of the streets
the tiny ants unwanted and unloved
by innocent passersby
guilty of the bigger ignorance?
~Alissa Nicholls~
~March 3, 05~
