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.
Contributions
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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.
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