Ostara
A Spring Ritual
Ostara It's Spring and my OCD Quickens like the crocus I scan my kitchen's Corners, cracks, and folds. Mountains out my window Looming and peering Wonder if this year I will win or lose. I know they are coming On invisible scrabbling feet They are coming to eat— Stay out. Stay out! I fear their jagged jaws Their impossible strength Their rapid arithmetic when they come The permanence of the conquering nest. Invaders! Can they be repelled, The treasure survive their hunger? Scrub the counter, scrub the floor Close the windows, lock them all Every cabinet pristine I do my best, but— They will come, I know. My eyes are too weak, I am too slow, too old. I will kill the scouts. This Spring, I fear The Ants will take the bastion. My kitchen will be theirs