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- The Spider
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- All morning I have watched
- The spider spin her silks
- Without aid or sympathy,
- Just the promise that says
- This has to be.
-
- Then at noon when she chances
- Into day she shunts
- Into a silence more deadly
- Than any noise heard before.
- And we have lost our mercies
- In listening.
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- And when the sun dampens and the evening turns
- I touch her web that falls to ground,
- A sense now of something wrong,
- Lady spider without circumstance
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- Fastened to a suicidal body
- Asking for recompense
- From anyone who might hear
- And applaud, given
- The act of pain I exacted
- With a fingers' touch,
- Wavering but certain,
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- A long falling down into moonlight.
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