a friend told me part of this story |
The red ants go marching, marching, marching. Terri, my favorite cashier, smiles as she turns bills into paper money orders. Red ant stickers go marching, marching, marching, across her till at the Northern Tier Credit Union. "This is Sir Percy the lead ant, and Marguerite and Armand St. Just. Here is Chevaulin turned backwards. All the other ants are gaining on him..." The red ants go marching, marching, marching. Terry tells me about the Scarlet Pimpernel as she slowly counts twenties, tens, fives, into slots and punches numbers into the keyboard. The red ants go marching, marching, marching. The bank ran out of money, and recession means belt tightening for me, but I smile when I see ants on the sidewalk. The red ants go marching, marching, marching past my threadworn shoes. |