a spider's thin and spindly jointed legs
adeptly fashion silk into a web
and sense each movement - every breath of wind,
or insects haply destined to fill in.
the lattice, an extension of her self,
a masterpiece of lace, - a work of stealth,
a tatting to entrap the vagrant fly
or captivate a poet; whose reply
is spinning other sort of web in verse
tho granted - not as intricate as hers-
nor able quite to garner single meal
no matter what of beauty they reveal.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem