Spider Woman
She tats filaments for her web, delicate connections regally covering the corner until drones fly too close. Snatch! She folds it away, spins again, this time on the back of the sofa, against the fabric; gossamer threads stretched to the wall. Wham! Her web collapses under the indifferent mop of the cleaning lady, wiping away dust balls, dirt, the crumbs of life. Our heroine, carried in the confines of the mop out of the room onto the porch, hits the silk to safety. She spies the Next Perfect Place: the glowing porch light and weaves an architectural triumph, a filigreed camouflage over the golden lamp, a crackle-patterned scrim to deflect the ropy mop tentacles brushing against the porch ceiling like a painter eager to beat the oncoming rain.
*Hits the silk. A gentle, successful parachute landing.
*
How to Love
Run
arms outstretched
to the edge of the high board.
Jump up,
thumbs touching.
Curve your body
downward
toward the sparkling aqua
gem of an inside sea
and dive right in.
*
Love After Love, After Derek Walcott
Tomorrow. Sooner.
You will release what was suppressed
From that dark place you lived
You will see her. Connect, and
You will feel hunger for life, for the moment.
Today, you will hug the fear, kiss the doubt.
Share wine, bread, your heart.
Be not afraid. Embrace. Weep happiness.
Step out of the costume of silence.
Put on the cloak of courage.
Read your story as if freshly inked; a coda
To this verse. Smile. Circle your arms around
You. Trust joy.
***
