Minutae

Minutae

I saw a ruddy ant
Brilliantly livid with venom
Climbing my son's shirt
Urgently flicked it off
While my boy oblivious
Big and beautiful,
Devoured pizza

And we watched it together
Clinging obstinately
To his green shorts
I dusted it off
With rapid precision strokes.

On the ground it ambled off
Looking for its mates
No doubt foraging fresh prey.

Now as I write
A darn mosquito
Mosaic eyes me
While foolishly injecting sofa handles
Searching for blood
In cellulose.
I eyeball it back
Warily.
Strategy perhaps to
Lull me.
Before it attacks from behind
Attaching to flesh
Whereever it is blind.

I am reminded of a pretty soap sud
At dawn
Washing up cups and dishes
Early morning song
Hummed under breath
I kept an eye on that pretty half bubble
Domed soap world
Imagining minutae
Of microscopic life
Under its fold.
Perhaps a genderless germ
Singing in undetected tones
Living life as it should
Under the hood
Anonymously, at the levels
Of tiny particles
Aroma and molecules
Of orderliness.

This universe
It strikes me
Is a wash basin of dreams
Gurgling down
The proverbial sink.

(c) Amrita Valan 2018