He stood there firmly, his armor
sound and whole, unmoving, and his stance
convincing. The legs seemed tensed, the gaze ahead
correctly fixed upon the future, under
his twin obliquely raised correct antennae.
An arthropod has many stable virtues.
Only –
-- Something there was – he caught my eye at once.
What was it? A slight list to port? A darkening
of all his tail assembly?
-- That, and two small ants.
I waved my hand before his eyes. He did not flinch,
but I did.
The ants were walking round him on the leaf,
not one upon him; but I was sure now, soon….
-- I went; returned:
He looked the same – but now, as I foresaw,
One ant….
To be an arthropod, that's great:
You always have so fine an outer shell.
I only wish I'd look so dignified
As this grasshopper , when my flesh turns grass.