Tiny and trembling,
the ant on its leaf-raft,
each ripples a new world....
The rush of the current,
and the stillness of the leaf,
are not the same...
The panic of separation,
and that haunting feeling,
of a colony left behind...
The vastness of the river,
and unknown horizons?
And home so distant now....
The quiver of antennae,
sensing unfamiliar scents,
carried on the breeze...
That fleeting security,
six legs gripping...
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