A Poem by D.

From Eclectic Waters
November 6th, 2006

Courage

A small body,

moving like a black bead across linoleum floor,

spins grey thread.

She hangs it like party streamers

between

rocks, trees, doorframes and windows.

Her webs of small triangles, looped and tied together,

have been dismembered by hats, flailing hands, and squirrels.

Each time, she hides beside the knotted corner, the one in the shadows,

watching

the web break

into frayed fingertips that twitch.

She has sat on the edge of countless webs. When the wind dies down, her legs click forward.

Rebuild.

A small body,

moving like a black bead,

spinning grey thread and stretching it out.

I leaned forward, but heard no sigh,

only the click click click of hairy legs against a twig.

A small body,

moving like a black bead across linoleum floor,

spins grey thread.

She hangs it like party streamers

between

rocks, trees, doorframes and windows.