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.
-
Archives
- January 2021
- December 2019
- November 2019
- May 2019
- September 2018
- July 2018
- March 2018
- February 2018
- October 2017
- September 2017
- August 2017
- May 2017
- March 2017
- January 2017
- October 2016
- August 2016
- May 2016
- April 2016
- March 2016
- February 2016
- January 2016
- October 2015
- September 2015
- August 2015
- July 2015
- June 2015
- May 2015
-
Meta