What features are there to see
when a creature’s size
is beyond recall
and the smallest measuring stick
ignores the larger need for human sight
to detect details as a face with eyes
if that body’s head can only be defined
as a period’s pin prick dropped
from some forgotten page?
Should we revere a nonentity
with neither name nor thought
or ever envy those who fly
when we see how bugs, given wings,
identify their annoying lives
with the gift of flight
by flying over us
beyond our reach
and, out of sight,
never know they die?

Kirby Congdon