Raindrops pelt on skylight, white
But I’m deceived
The firmament lets loose of no deluge
Craning, catching better sight
Black specks, aggrieved
Last gasp in nature’s futile subterfuge
Now mute, the wingless creatures lie
No soil or mound
Will hold the future, soared toward, bravely sought
Not viable, death is nigh
Post storm, false ground
Formicidae left safe home for naught
*Inspired by Three Word Wednesday ~ Gasp, Mute, Viable
