"The Funeral March"

A bee falls in mid flight, days numbered from the beginning of inception, and it is this moment when all matters of energy change hands. Troops of ants in their neat fastidious lines, methodically plying the infinitesimal structures of another species from its still beating heart, taking death to make life, carrying a weight in their jaws, (a milligram may as well be a mountain) and this becomes the burden of their own life span. Aleathia Drehmer 2007