I died and became a scarab beetle, reborn in Savannah’s torrid heat.
Spinning dung, I’m on the look out for bigger obstacles.
Spiders, wildebeests maybe even an African eagle?
Spin, spin, spin. vision-360 degrees.
Spin, spin, spin – a resting oryx
Spin, Spin, SPIN! – centipedes curling on a mound spire
At a distance, a rhino beetle. I disregard.
My dung orb rolls downhill! Who knew, I’d be crushed by my cousin’s mandible.
My end in a vast grassland, so trivial.
Triggers: Old friends by Darren Korb and You’re somebody else by flora cash