Spiders on my grapes
First autumn morning
bright with summer
contorts between the vines
leaking shadows
from beneath
drones of silver spiders
hover and spin and swing
on shards of borrowed light.
how clever these dainty devils
these agile musketeers
these guardians of grapes
no swords or capes
only juicy bait and sticky
dew laced thread
unraveled
from internal spaces
and fixed to leaf and branch
up and down the oval hills
to gather ferment flies
that came to praise the ripening
and to glory in the sweet
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