The Spider’s Web Across The Trail
The dawn was sketching faint outlines
I observed the sunrise artist as I awoke, supine
The winds to the trees, they whisper “awake”
where the mountain’s children come to life
and a bird with an angelic gift flies by
and conducts a forest symphony as morning breaks
A rough trail leads upward and is lost in the wood
and it steers where I’m destined in all likelihood
As I start my trek upward I feel something cling
and I swiftly break through it
With no sympathy to it
this harp-like spread of spider web string
Further up the mountain slope, once again, tis no surprise
I crash through the gossamer web of a spider, but, I’m many times his size
He must know this path is well traveled by day
he must suffer displeasure for he worked through the night
only losing his trophy with nary a fight
But can brag to his friends of the catch - got away
I break through these webs with hardly a care
while this poor trembling spider just sits there and stares
for the indwelling spider will not run to this fly
I will steel dimly forth on the path that I hike
paying little attention to the threads that I strike
He’ll just wait till I’m gone and go on with his life
To string up web filaments end to end on these trails
is a feat that I know not of what it entails
I stop to observe and become more aware
of the leaves I have trodden or of life’s hurtful scars
and I pity you, spider, wherever you are
‘neath the surface of life, there’s much more lingering there
So, I’ll watch for your dancing o’er the corpse of a fly
and pause if I see you as I walk on by
for you, death’s important, a triumph, a win
in your secret funnel where eyes are excluded
I’ll know that you’re there in your tunnel, secluded
I’ll look at you, wondering from outside, what’s within
-Malcolm Kogut.
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