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.