Ants

At one time, there were ants on my workbench.

And they crawled onto my computer.

Sometimes when I was away.
Sometimes dropping from above, as I worked.
Sometimes under the lid--a surprise for me, when I opened it.
Sometimes on the keyboard.

Sometimes, in low light, they would make their way across the screen. Back-lit silhouettes, frantically pioneering through pixels and light.

And I killed them. All.

But sometimes I still see them on my keyboard.

Rubbing the Antennae

I think that, in a way, we're like random worker ants.

We've probably met before, or share some common experience, as common ants.

And then occasionally, making our anonymous way across the middle of a great expanse, we meet. Or re-meet.

And we pause, briefly, or even at length (depending on the circumstance) and rub antennae.

And then we move along.