The birds hover in the updraft,
The gnats fly by.
One of the birds swoop down,
And I see a little gnat die.
The moth lays eggs upon the branch
When a strong breeze brings it down.
The ants kill her,
There is a funeral procession upon the ground.
There is a nest up in the tree
From which a twittering, chirping sounds.
The parents are teaching their kin to fly,
There they are, above the school grounds!
I watch as the spider's egg sac is sewn,
With such precision to every thread.
It is in this way that
Life will begin and life will end.
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