Spiders in autumn
fatter, slower, retreating
hungry thoughts of spring.
Abandoned cobweb
glistens in autumnal sun
I duck beneath it.
Summer exiting
few flowers or spiders left
hidden seeds and eggs.
Nights getting chilly
leaf-edges turn spider-brown
curl like spider legs.
Around
September 30,
2009:
Concur.next — The Laundry List
·
Concur.next — Java
·
Concur.next — Crosstalk
·
Concur.next
·
Short-form Fragments
I work for Google, but the opinions expressed here are my own, and no other party necessarily
agrees with them.
A full disclosure of my professional interests is on the
author page.
Comment feed for ongoing:
From: Emily Dickinson (Sep 30 2009, at 23:05)
THE SPIDER.
A spider sewed at night
Without a light
Upon an arc of white.
If ruff it was of dame
Or shroud of gnome,
Himself, himself inform.
Of immortality
His strategy
Was physiognomy.
[link]