Webs
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A baby sits near an outdoor wall faucet, fascinated by a web woven by an industrious spider, and...
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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.
Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2011
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