Saturday, August 27, 2011

Widow spider

Rusting under the willow tree
where silent bugs make sound by tapping ground
lies a widow spider of 6 claws.

Of dying glaciers and swarming bees
where valley gods sleep under superimposed trees
she whined and it just  reverberated.

Callous became of frozen river where slimy slugs molder
shining shards of carcass under the spell of boulder.

Under a rotten log of wood she found one but ray of light
made her walk for some two or more steps
and before she is buried well within the reach of good smelling earth
she would walk a little more.

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