Lisa Zerkle: Again, The Spider


slings her lines

                                                                                                                                   pins one end

to ink weed

                                                                                                the other to angel’s trumpet

            again she fixes

                                                                                    what she’s already fixed         

her work is circular                                        

                                                            she’s the center

            of her own universe                                   its everyday disasters     

            she sweeps away                                                                  yesterday’s mess

the home she’s made                                              is the home she’s making                soon                                                   

                                    all we’ll recall is her craft                               how it dazzled            

in dust                         or dew                                     but see her now

                        above her whip-stitched  script                 ready to take what comes

make it her own

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