A BREAK IN THE TRAIL
Along the trail, we’re accosted by a spider’s web,
vow to keep eyes peeled
for the next one and the one after that,
silken traps stretched from branch to branch.
Unwitting insects dot the outer rim.
In soft breeze, beauty and function,
cunning and death, reverberate.
Then we spy the orb spider,
not seated on its central throne,
but busily adding decoration to its masterwork,
spinning stabilimenta crossways to the circles.
The spider’s like the artist who’s never satisfied
that his masterwork is actually finished.
Time to go on,
we give the web a wide berth.
The path is steeper from hereon.
Leg muscles brace themselves for the task.
Admiration takes a breather.