From my porch
I watch thunderheads
battering high noon
into bruised twilight.
I see you climb
from under eaves,
awakened
by a pressure change.
As the storm inhales
you leap and spin,
leap and spin
your web — knowing
your time to build
is fleeting.
Ryan Stone
Some days even faster than others it often seems! Thank you for taking the time to read and comment, Ivor 🙂
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Ryan, your writing is lovely, bittersweet and brilliant as ever. You photo is gorgeous, a web made of moonstones. 😉 Please enjoy the rest of your week. ~ Mia
Hope is like a spider’s web..incredible strength within the fragilest of strands. Don’t know why but this came to my mind. The repitition (towards the close) certainly packs a punch to reesablish the workings of hope, symbolised so beautifully by your web of words. The spider here is only an unsuspecting conduit to give us a glimpse of your brilliant mind. You are as great as ever, Ryan.
P.S. sorry about the unsolicited ranting. Can’t sleep. Lol. And I may be completely wrong about the spider, in which case I’ll say “hey you made me think”. 😀
This is life for the spider and for most of us – making hay when the sun shine. “Bruised twilight” is an awesome image. Great poetry and image!
Your poetry is always beautiful. Somehow you’ve made spiders poetic which I never thought was possible. Good on you, I still hate them though 🙀
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