Workaday

3:30 a.m. —
Watch a spider
Ascend a foggy thread
In the alarm-clock light.
The rumbling of a train
Wrecks the silent distance,
And I wonder
At these careful, careless webs.
Tie it together.

The robin
Downbeat, upbeat
Then trill —
Before first light.
Tie it together.

The cardinals join
In peachflesh dawn —
Variations on a theme.
The feathertop grass,
Its seeds all spent,
Beckons as I pass by.
And the dew shines like glass —
Like silver beads.
Tie it together.
Find a guitar string
And tie it together.

The woman strapped
To the beast behind
Uses a blood pause —
Paints a mask.
And a western man
Adjusts the shade
Then shows me
A single,
Perfectly manicured,
Finger.
I was too slow
To resist
The turning web.
So I damn it
And tie it together.

The maple flowers —
Electric! —
Against a sky so blue
It hurts.
I never thought you spoke
In the sunlight.
In the silver box
I pray against the trap.
And I wonder at the cause
Of all this weeping.
Does it rejoice?
Or lament things left
By the side of the road?
One more knot in the net.
And then ask this:
Who looks at my web
And wonders
At its foggy minuteness?

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About Emily

I may or may not have: A. Dirt B. Ink C. Paint D. Wool under my fingernails.

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