By: Christopher Davies
Cascade under crowbar blow
to the sawdust: fat ants scatter
a seething mass- the pithy
windowframe’s cavern studs,
shed-gorged borers, spiders
picking off the periphery
in shadow.
Grace sits with its bright maw
in the broken wall.
To the deer who skirts
the half-eaten shed
I’ve rolled a fall apple.
Christopher Davies is a cowboy, a hermit, a ditch-digger, and your cat's best friend.
"This poem came from a weekend of dissolution, horror and redemption in Astoria last fall. I pondered the idea of god in everything and everything a kind of great hunger. But then that gives the poem away."
Carpenter ants may seem small, but their impact is huge! 🐜 This poem vividly captures their hidden destruction—silently burrowing through wood, only revealed when it’s too late. If you spot carpenter ants in Cambridge, don’t wait! Protect your home before they turn it into sawdust. 🚫🏠