From the spring of 2002, based on a garden "encounter."
 

The Web

 

After the storm,

the spider fine tunes its web-

spiraling inward,

plucking at strands

strung lyre-like

between the apple branches.

Shrinking fingers of light

slip from the underbellies

of  low slung clouds

that stream by

nearly snagging the tree tops.

The wind fills the web

like a jib stretched out

before the slapping bow of a ship.

Meanwhile, our small planet

hurtles forward, circling

on strands of patient gravity

spun by God knows who or what.

Satisfied with her spinning,

the spider finally

settles into place

at the center of a billowing universe,

waiting for some small

something to come sailing by.

 

Tom Spencer

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