Ants in the grass

When I lie on my back on the grass,

Ants use my arm as an overpass.

When I lie on my leftmost side,

The shy ones go in my ear and hide.

If I sit up to lean on a tree,

Under-back sleepers will roam free.

If I stand up and feel the warm air,

They will climb up my shin hair.

If they stay on me and I swim,

I’m an island that sinks on a whim.

If the sun shines, I’ll play with the ants,

If it doesn’t I’ll hug potted plants.

This will caterpillarize my chest,

And I’ll be all-organically well-dressed.

Sun or not, you can find some friends,

Some so small you’ll need a zoom lens.

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