I want to shift my shape and stalk

across a jeweled dew-dropped web

spinning a spiral tunnel as I walk

all corners anchored firm to fight the ebb

and push of errant breeze or stormy blow

snug against all tricks Fate might deliver.

When it’s finished I will back on tip-toe

down my chute, stop to sever silken thread

curb my hunger patiently, crouch in a

waiting trance, anticipating nothing.

I rely on heaven-sent sweet manna.

Some hasty flighty creature on the wing

will bumble in my net and stick there fast

to offer me refreshment and repast.

Leave a comment. We want to hear from you.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s