Last year’s Marmalade
Dripped from my bread braid
Onto the warm summer’s walk
To tempt, to cajole, even stalk

Those enormous black ants
Who wear armor, not pants
Not even bothering to stop
As they top my flip flop

To get to the drop
Where they sip and they sop
Up the manna from Heaven
That was to them given

On this most blessed of days
As the ice cream truck plays
Its fairy tale tune
On such a fine day in June