Look left, look right
look up and down
this world is yours to grasp
But how, you ask, can tiny fingers cage this winding land?
Skeins of yarn that track behind
this tattered blanket's end
Scurl and furl, the webs of fate
knit in seeming whim
A spiders web, intricate order
cast in gossamer strands
To trap and tremble sweet memories,
the prey this spider hunts
No different are these images, no truth but simply stunts
A dancer's leap from emerald stalk
the grasshopper taking flight
to meet in air, though he knows it not, the bat who prowls this night
To hunt by sticky, grasping web or grasping memory,
we all are caught in skeins of thread
That drag at times frayed blanket end