Cling
a brown and curling maple leave hangs suspended mid-air
in the clearing by the lake, transfixed by the view and kindness
woven within the web it watches the rain fall
within the transparent lace-like web, it curls inward
its only movement seems a solemn gesture of reverence
with its last bit of I it sighs, what better place to die
shielded from the gentle rain within the prayerful curl of sable leaf
the spider waits for the Autumn wind to tear them free, to fly ... on
to see the conifers green among the forest's rise
brisk winds rent the leave from loom and upward rise the pair
a spider spinning on the sable leave of maple anchored by a strand
as we our spirits torn, are reborn, within the clutch
the center holds sound its claim nature's umbilicus, man
like the spider's leaf born flight, we seek on unknown winds to rise
gentle the breeze or harsh the Fall's feverous gale, still … we rise
First Published in Fall Legends - Kind of a Hurricane Press 2013
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