Gone the comfort of the sunwarmed rock
that drives the blood anew after the cold
of late September nights.
Lying there on the chill of concrete pavement
White belly now upturned , legs struck askew ,
a touch of dark blood where a giant’s foot,
striking from uncomprehended space,
has split the flesh.

Not even the shed tail saved it nor the speed
of fear-driven four small legs dashing for crack and shelter.

Incurious at first I gaze, and then ,
touched strangely by this small death , I find
a purple lasiandra flower , fallen close
and aptly coloured for a mourning cloth
to lay the tiny body in its shroud.

Inevitably now , the ants will come
marching in long funereal procession
delicately removing flesh and scale,
themselves perhaps to soon become
the victims of another crushing foot.

Vale , you tiny ones, so soon gone
into the longest darkness of them all.

The giants too must come to this
So-- ave atque vale-- we will join you soon.