Tuesday, April 5, 2011

a memory, no. 2

a hammock web
is set between the branches,
below the eaves;

stranded and soft,
it sways and sways
in loquacious air--

dancing between spores and pollen and sunrays
filtered through the leaves;

there is dust in its fibers
as it sways,

there is time in its fibers
as it sways,
rocking in the bright and shade

as branches break,
sway and shake;

empty shoes at the roots
with untied laces,

words like wind
through glittering leaves
and high, open spaces--

way up there,
where it stays,

as morning prepares for night,
as still strands bend with light,
as the web sways,

moves and stays
as it sways,

there, the footholds fall:
bits of bark and silken yarn
under clouds in failing light,

but still it stays,
still it sways,

there, in remembered air,
with the fading days.