Author Diana Der Hovanessian A thread of red ants moves between the door and my bed. I rise from sleep and grope, then crush the ants and sleep again and wake to find the thread of red ants between bed and door has grown to a thick rope Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments