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