Boxes

When I was a child,
I found an ant on the sidewalk outside my house
large and black
with strong teeth
and proud antennas standing at attention.

I watched him for a little bit.
The way he crawled and moved
before slowly extending my hand for him to climb upon.

Then I got up
while he weaved between my fingers
ran inside
and grabbed a small bracelet box.

I pulled out the stuffing and placed him inside
grabbed a few leaves
a small twig
and a tiny droplet of water and then closed it up.

I knew I built him the perfect home
And he was gonna be so happy there.

But I, like most children,
was a terrible caretaker
And it wasn’t long until he died
Trapped in a box
that he never asked to be placed in.

I was too young to understand my mistake
but I think about him all the time
and how even in death.

I still buried him in a box that was never his own.