A Walk In The Wood Poem by John Allen Richter

The blue-ness of the clear sky asks - demands -
to lighten every next step.
And the scent of ash and dogwood tree
do robustly push me along.
Wonder I, softly, this chorus center be -
Heaven sent or songbirds of field they.
Nether I, worldly, do God's treasures accept -
such as these might last my eternity -
Tucked away serenely, saved alone for me.

And what should see, come upon us -
in these wildwood trees of colors so grand?
Nestled amongst the shaded floor -
‘twixt the sprouted saplings there
should find a creature grandly divine -
Spinning, webbing her silken thread -
toiling high wires so delicately fine.
The she-spider gliding along -
in her own geometric world -
Hop, hop, hop and stitch -
moving right along -
her very life a true love song
garnishing her moment in time.
And safely stowed deep away
…………..in her silky little patch -
are things of generations yet to come -
tiny spiders not yet born -
in their tender egg sac - but soon
for all this world to see….

Fly, baby spider - glide along -
time to scoot along to your own home…
Pray thee, not to look down -
else to find father - with missing crown -
left where mother killed - and laid him down.
His body, shrunken, coiled upon the ground.
Withered, and cold - yet clasping still -
that last after-sex cigarette - ash burnt down…
Fly away, little spider, fly away
No love here to be found……
Only cigarette ashes and fallen stars…..
Only the first of your many scars.