The slow progression of a spider
up the dusted window pane
hauling his booty lady bug
pre-cocoon, and way too large
She resists this tiny spindly vein
Hard to focus on the brilliant phosphate
green of all that lies beyond my hand
hard to see the hills and rust sheds
making up this silent land
All I can focus on, is this
struggle in minutiae, nature’s hand
all that life is, and seems to be
is bundled up in its webbing strands
This scenario plays out
a million times over, unseen
in a further million lonely sheds
across the world we can't explain,
yet when we look beyond, expands.
Comments
Spiders etc
Jane hirshfeld, popular American poet, once commented you are never more than 6 ft away from a spider...at home under the couch or in the woods. That they eat their pray alive or bury them in a cocoon for later makes them a great vehicle to express the terror and violence in the world. Has me convinced the creator is a sadist. I like your poem but think you could consider charging it with a bit more intensity. Let me feel the terror and its relationship to the larger world as the meaning expands. Spiders are unfathomongly cruel but just following their nature. That cruelty needs a bit more passion in this otherwise fine poem. My take. ..
I like your image of a
I like your image of a million lonely sheds.
The poem's emphasis is on the meaningless and often futile straggle constituting our life we yet to understand. it feels strangely consoling. Thank you.
Hi
Indeed it is the little things which most people are in too much of a hurry to even notice that are so fascinating. There was a Lot of enjambment here which kinda hurt the flow a bit but I liked everything else.......stan
destiny indeed keeps weaving
destiny indeed keeps weaving its web silently...
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I like the world within a
I like the world within a world within a world feel of the poem. you see this in your shed, but there are sheds, spiders, prey, webs, everywhere. the same thing playing out on another stage, close by or far away. very chilling poem.