Crouched down in the hot dry sand
she held the twig lightly
and twirled it once, then twice
on the rim of the perfectly formed cone
waiting for the moment when the
spiny, cross ant lion would dart out for a meal.
His disappointment was only temporary
as with infinite patience he would settle back down
and wait for the next unsuspecting creature
to tumble inelegantly down into his lair.

This is wonderful. It immediately put me in mind of the Ant-Lion story in the Moomin books.
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Thanks Mary! The ant-lions were a source of endless fascination for us as children.
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