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

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