Death of a Mite

What deeds what needs
What procreative lust
Animates this minute speck of dust?

A living entity
Of intricate complexity
It moves - now fast, now slow,
Alert, all systems on the go,
While I decide its fate.

It darts and dodges, but oh, I fear, too late!
Now just a smudge,
It soils the finger of its casual judge.

It had a life of sorts,
But such a life
Defies my thoughts.

Malcolm Matthews

If you've any thoughts about this poem, please share them with Malcolm Mattews.

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