by Jacqueline Jules
If I must admit to being small,
a tiny being, insignificant alone,
I can still claim to be a fire ant
who stings with toxic venom.
One bite cannot kill
but when you multiply
the mandibles of thousands,
a larger prey can be paralyzed,
even dismantled.
Every time I make a phone call,
send a postcard, make a donation,
I dismiss my trivial size
and visualize my colony
our tiny jaws lifted, carrying
a cumbersome load together.
Jacqueline Jules is the author of three chapbooks, Field Trip to the Museum, (Finishing Line Press), Stronger Than Cleopatra (ELJ Publications), and Itzhak Perlman’s Broken String, winner of the 2016 Helen Kay Chapbook Prize from Evening Street Press. Her poetry has appeared in over 100 publications including Sow’s Ear Poetry Review, Glass, Beltway Poetry, Innisfree Poetry Journal, Gargoyle, and Connecticut River Review. She is also the author of forty books for young readers. Visit her online at www.jacquelinejules.com.