Time Runs Out
I watched intently
as a large bellicose garden spider
repaired its broken web.
I don’t know what destroyed it,
something to large to trap became
ensnared I supposed.
I thought to myself, why do you bother,
It’s way down in the fall and your days
are growing short.
In circuitous fashion it spun delicate orbs,
as if in desperation, seeming to sense
time running out.
I watched each strand laid down in perfect
geometric form, as it blindly followed some
innate plan.
Just at dusk, its work completed, it rested
in perceived security, and waited to be
rewarded for its labor.
Last night there was a hard freeze.
Copyright © Curtis Forsythe | Year Posted 2017
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