Sunday, August 21, 2011

Walking Web

I am caught          like a fly            in a web
though I am moving and have broken it
From twigs         and branches          that string it
blue, cold, skyward and tether its ends to the hot center
I am carrying          it with me         over shoulders
and neck like a noose or long pendant, I’ll wear it forever
Sometimes          it glistens          on my skin
sometimes I scratch and pull at infinite fragments
Each bit falls         away, nothing          visible remains
but still I am traced by silk and bound by its feeling on my skin
Light, down         to nearly nothing          you can’t see
that it’s there in my hair or on my face, under finger nails.

1 comment:

  1. I just wanted you to know that I am still checking in here.