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Web: The spider weaves a form of transient art that is too easily destroyed.
Posted by Douglas, Aug 2, 2010. 1188 views. ID = 3749

Web

Posted by Douglas, Aug 2, 2010. 1188 views. ID = 3749
This post was written in 4 minutes.
free verse. I didn't try to set up a specific meter, but it turns out it is almost entirely iambic. The poem begins with "s" alliteration for the spider, and switches to "w" alliteration for the part about me.
This post has been awarded 6 stars by 2 readers.

As silent as a sunrise on the still, dawn air,
By subtle art she weaves her slender silken threads
From bush to shrub to sturdy oak across the hillside trail.

But I, a weary wanderer, solitary, unwitting, unaware,
Sweep away her fragile web with careless tread
And naught remains of all her careful craft but this:
A sudden, startling wetness and a tingling of the flesh.

Copyright 2010 Douglas. All rights reserved. FifteenMinutesOfFiction.com has been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work. For permission to reprint this item, please contact the author.
 


   
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This post has been awarded 6 stars by 2 readers.




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