A baby sits near an outdoor wall faucet, fascinated by a web woven by an industrious spider, and...
He sits through eons observing whirling galaxies in spangled drops dangled from webs rocked by wind, plucked like instruments whose music only he can hear; webs walked by a furred arachnid, angle-legged, which moves from thread to thread as though on stilts. Fascinated by a spectrum split from sunlight by a bead of dew, he intercepts the colored bands with extended fingers of one fat hand and gurgles his delight, exhibiting a still toothless smile. His brain a sponge to soak up all knowledge the universe contains, this salivating son of simian evolution pulls the silvery web he watches from between the wall and faucet, destroying in a moment what centuries produced.
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.