To a spider

Spin some lines
across these panes
so when threads
are frosted, rain-dropped
I'll perceive something divine;
the unseen hand that guides
your silken labour

Am I being fanciful?
Is it only a trap,
a net for carcasses?
Why then such wonder
in the weave?

35 thoughts on “To a spider

  1. I love the double meaning we poets might find right there at the start: “spin these lines.” I love the ponderings here. Such beauty, and entrapment. 😉

  2. I love spinning words, fanciful or as a trap. Though I detest spiders, I love the divine musings from the silken labour.

  3. I love spiders’ webs, well, looking at them. One year a spider made a web covering the entire door to the laundry room and I walked into it.😱

  4. a net for carcasses……….that bitter taste was the trap….mystical, clever, a myriad of reasonings..unfinished business here, for this is part of a bigger story

  5. Such an existential question:

    “why then such wonder

    in the weave”

    Why, indeed?

    Kudos for seeing and making me see such beauty in such a small thing. That’s a gift.

  6. If only all webs were so beautiful, our tall ceilings are festooned with the messy work of those long-legged, small bodied spiders… Great poem, Lara!

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