Sudden Death in Middle Age

When I heard that he’d had a heart attack
on a flight from Boston to Detroit
I went out to water the pots of sage
that flourish with little attention
on our west-facing stoop.

Straining to hear the water
seep through the soil, I saw an ant colony
migrating in multiple files
across the sidewalk.

On my hands and knees
what had looked like an organized march
was a frenzied mob of thousands
trampling one another
as if trapped inside a stadium riot—

the way that painting by Seurat
looks like a sunny day in the park,
crowds of people lounging
on the banks of a blue river,

but stand too close
and the images divide
into distinct dots of color
that dizzy the head and nauseate.