by Gary Maclean

Created on: April 18, 2008   Last Updated: May 30, 2011

A dozen little mounds
A hundred little trails
A thousand little workers
All bustling on the hills

Hills as big as a wagon wheel
Hills as small as a dime
Hills as deep as a tree root
Make their homes sublime

We casually stomp on the hill
Purposely wipe it away
Not thinking what is living there
Just making the residents pay

100 million years old
20,000 species and races
We will never wipe them out
They have long since secured their places

We destroy the hill today
They build it up again tomorrow
They have lost their home and kin
But they know no sorrow

They know only survival
And that they do well
Destroy ten hills
And they will run pell mell

They will reconstruct in a day
That which you destroyed in a flash
The ant hill will survive
Long after we all have passed

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