Web of Daylight

The grey spider dawn of day
stealthily swings from the dome,
sinewy, bold, a metronome.
She waltzes on moated keys
depressing letters with ease.

A bone bread mix morning,
squishy, sticking to the spoon,
She stirs the daily cocoon
while imagining her prize,
a warm web on the rise.

The noon’s typhoon saturates,
tiny lashes turn her numb,
and like that her chores half-done.
The downpour like daggers;
she spins silk and staggers.

Dinosaur dig afternoon,
dirty cobwebs are exhumed;
she repairs a stale tomb.
Someone else’s skeleton
offers the day’s first medicine.

Evening requires pattern,
her spinnerets unroll
the day’s dense batter holds
symmetrical wings, chewy chatter;
she wills her prey to be fatter.

When the sun recklessly flies
into evening’s hidden mesh,
It won’t wiggle its fiery flesh
but softly submit its rays–
death to another full day.

© khartless 2021, All Rights Reserved

I wrote this poem last fall, but I was reminded of it today when a rather large spinner casually joined me at my desk during my lunch break, so I thought I’d repost it and see what some of my newer readers think of this sinewy verse.

Cheers! K.


  1. a motley array of images which, admittedly, I got lost in but I know they are all working to some grand design ; interestingly spiders featured in my poem too, only to be replaced by rocks 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, Susan. Yes, everything I post is homemade, and if anything is borrowed, I always cite that in the notes. This one was a patchwork quilt of a poem. My writing partner did help me iron it right before I posted. He’s a good ironer.


  2. this is marvellous, K; you’re really stretching your craft; where does one start? I get a frisson just reading this: I must have missed it first time round; this is certainly not ‘lazy verse’, not the writing of someone ‘just coasting’; thanks 🙂


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