spider

a desperate spider
weaved his web
in the late fall
it was too cold for flies
but perhaps the moths could still be
trapped

winter was approaching
the nights darker
and colder
the spider lay on his web
and saw a faceted sky
intensities of lightness and darkness
fell and rose
as the days progressed

angels fell from heaven
and the spider waited
the angels had sweetly observed the world
and had now become a part of it
the spider lay on his cold web

the angels surrounded the spider
and saw the geometric web
and the markings of the spiders body
his black eyes reflected white lights

one of the angels bent down and coaxed the spider into her palm
the spider felt warmth
she kissed it with her lips
and put it back into the web

the angels left
and the spider slowly starved
gripped to the web
it became a dry husk
that would remain for years
till a broom swept it away