Spider Song
Spiders have seldom come to visit me here,Unimpressed with my second-story view,
But this morning there is a four-foot web
Stretched taut from downspout to deck rail.
Such implacable patience in its weaving
And waiting for the unwary moth, careless
Fly, to be embraced by its shimmering seduction.
How many false notes there must be when
A breeze touches each string into resonance;
How content this composing presence is
To let the wind tangle them 'til they break,
Then begin again its never-ending theme,
Spinning a new harp of hunger and silk.
Poetry by countryfog
Read 634 times
Editors' choice
Written on 2011-02-20 at 17:52
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Doreen Cavazza |
Lawrence Beck |
Morpheus |
Editorial Team |
jenks |
NicholasG |