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The Web.

The slow progression of a spider
up the dusted window pane
hauling his booty lady bug
pre-cocoon, and way too large
She resists this tiny spindly vein

Hard to focus on the brilliant phosphate
green of all that lies beyond my hand
hard to see the hills and rust sheds
making up this silent land

All I can focus on, is this
struggle in minutiae, nature’s hand
all that life is, and seems to be
is bundled up in its webbing strands

This scenario plays out
a million times over, unseen
in a further million lonely sheds
across the world we can't explain,
yet when we look beyond, expands.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
Time taken to watch the smaller things. In our little hut, we have field mice (often) frequent spiders, a morning squabble of finches, then like clockwork, marsh hens, sheep and the inevitable Masked Lapwing (Plovers) defending their nests. Suburbia was positively quiet, compared to living out here.
Editing stage: 


Jane hirshfeld, popular American poet, once commented you are never more than 6 ft away from a home under the couch or in the woods. That they eat their pray alive or bury them in a cocoon for later makes them a great vehicle to express the terror and violence in the world. Has me convinced the creator is a sadist. I like your poem but think you could consider charging it with a bit more intensity. Let me feel the terror and its relationship to the larger world as the meaning expands. Spiders are unfathomongly cruel but just following their nature. That cruelty needs a bit more passion in this otherwise fine poem. My take. ..

I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

I like your image of a million lonely sheds.
The poem's emphasis is on the meaningless and often futile straggle constituting our life we yet to understand. it feels strangely consoling. Thank you.


Indeed it is the little things which most people are in too much of a hurry to even notice that are so fascinating. There was a Lot of enjambment here which kinda hurt the flow a bit but I liked everything else.......stan

destiny indeed keeps weaving its web silently...

raj (sublime_ocean)

I like the world within a world within a world feel of the poem. you see this in your shed, but there are sheds, spiders, prey, webs, everywhere. the same thing playing out on another stage, close by or far away. very chilling poem.

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