Oh the Webs
we weave
to catch
the morning sun,
glistening with
drops of dew.
Webs of glowing
threads, webs
to hold in strongest wind
webs to catch,
webs to live in,
to deceive or
to grieve
what is lost. Webs
to patch and finally,
webs to leave.
Margaret Dubay Mikus
Copyright © 1997