my hands are hardening as my heart softens.
i try to hurry the process and things tear.
blisters rise and sting. i bruise
too easily, fall too fast.
the massive cottonwoods humble and reduce me.
i get small, laying on the patio,
hurtling through space beneath a sky
massed with leaves flecked with stars.
the planet rockets toward winter.
isolated gold flakes down from the leafy heavens.
my toes get cold, and all the bugs diversify.
every evening’s a concert of insects.
the spider sets up shop across the path,
where she’ll get the best traffic.
she floats midair, legs spread wide,
golden, black and glistening.
everyone admires her, and keeps their distance.
you can’t tell by looking
if she relishes the avoidance,
or aches from it.

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