The spider web was slack
With dew when we found it
Beating against the dawn air.
Whipping lightly like linen,
An earthly milky way half-seen.
The fineness of it showed
It had been vacated at some cost.
I saw no owner or guests
Through the shattered windows.
There was a question in the air
Of what the night had done.
The net held beads and an undone
Plan. This loosened home,
With anchors all uprooted,
Was now a white flag
Signaling the morning,
The real test long gone,
There was some trouble
In dealing with its
New brokenness.
Copyright © 2010. Tasha Cotter. All rights reserved.