A Testament

That ant down there, dragging his leg,
pushes his crumb around stones,
cracks in earth, grass stems . . .
may not even see the sky.
No sign he asked for help,
his wife, the neighbors,
or complained that a good ant
now suffers, no Job of ants
on his dunghill to argue with God.
He seems to say,
you push your crumb and I’ll push mine
with no questions asked.
I watch him drag that leg
around hills and down valleys
while he keeps the crumb moving
to push his luck home.