The Web

The Web

There, through our slender window, is the web
some spider swung a pattern by to land
on the limb tip of that pine on the other side
There are a dozen jewels of dew he hid
inside the crystal prism of design
Sometimes they touch my face
when I walk by

She listened, then she said, why must you brood
on everything as though it means so much
It is a spider's web & nothing more.
He did not choose that spot to suit your eyes,
no more than I chose this to catch your looks..
She showed her shirt by flinging her arms wide.

You wore that shirt to suit my eyes?

See, she said, how it is you never hear,
the simplest thing I say and yet you see
a thousand things outside a window pane.

Come sit with me, he said..but she withdrew
and stared until his hands fell to his knees.
Well, she said, have you any more to say?
Perhaps you see some field mice in the grass.

She would not bend to sit upon the chair.

Reviews

[W.k.kortas]

See, there's webs and there's webs; this is an elegant metaphor for a relationship caught in its own web of complexity and miscommunication. Compact and spare, but no less powerful for the economy. A fine, fine piece of writing