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| photo by EJR © |
I watch the spiders
they are near
the spinach and onions
they weave from the edges
of the planting boxes...
tunnelers, sates
and orbital web spinners
snare and repeat,
quick as a flash,
fly hungry turns
fast into dinner
wrapped for later...
there is a fated
and capitulate beauty
strung above them
a dapple gloaming light holds
the certainty of sorrow...
the maple leaf's thirst
nearing August
in upstate New York...
in places where rivers
and mountains meet
and not just above
the Tappan Zee
this sorrow leans
with us
into the Sun, foretells
of sweet cyclical bleed
luring our eyes
with pretty burn marks
as scent imperceptibly disappears
into a 'morrow desert Winter...
algorithms calculate
need, seed
and season
I am just here
to observe
on occasion...
EJR ©
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