The window in mid-summer raised, and where
the screen intersects with the frame, a web of circular
tensile silks radiating outward from the central lair
where a yellow spiny-backed spider waits, its six
thorn spurs protruding rose-like from its abdomen,
its casing imprinted with a wax seal ring. Attached
to the foundation lines, clusters of white cottony tufts,
lures, I suppose, for insects, and suspended
from a single thread, a much smaller egg-shaped
spider (the male?) swaying imperceptibly in the air:
an image from childhood that reminds me of "childhood,'
a word that so often crosses my mind that it long ago
ceased to mean anything other than a period of time
when things occurred not to me so much as him,
and all of them linked only by AND. As in the span
of a single moment, the afternoon after the all-clear
when the sun rose on a bloated, fly-stung pygmy goat
in a gravel slough he crossed to wave to a woman
with a Red Cross band on her arm. AND: the red
pinball bumper cap ("5000 when lit") in a tented
arcade on Brighton Pier when he was twelve.
I enjoyed this poem and the style in which it was written. Thanks, Sherod
an image from childhood that reminds me of childhood, ' a word that so often crosses my mind that it long ago Beautiful lines charged with poetic feelings, well penned poem, thanks for sharing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well articulated narrative piece of poetry, nicely penned in poetic diction. Thanks for sharing Sherod. Please read my poem MANDELA - THE IMMORTAL ICON.