Published in Flora Fiction
Just to the left of the dying lavender,
there is a castle of a web, fit for
this arachnid king. His galt is royal,
genteel, intentional. He spins crystalline
twine day after night after day, laying
each ivory wing to his throne carefully,
one after another. The fly whispers
that this spider was once a ballroom
dancer, gliding from one web to another,
each gnat a captive audience to watch
his debonair sways. The vapor on the silk
floorboards are as much props for his
performance as they are tears fleeing
from Mother Nature’s flooding eyes:
not an obstacle, but a bouquet of daisies
crying “Bravo! Bravo! Spin another web,
and tell me just one more story.”
Jaden Fong 