Spiderbeads
Out back where the trail curls around
to meet the creek, where you can
still smell the ghost of a three-year-old
fire, small animal tracks leave
mud holes where smaller spiders
spin overnight webs, delicate,
complex, stunning. In the morning,
spiderweb threads are strung with
tiny blue water beads, dewy
droplet pearls on finest silk as
if dropped from the neck of a tipsy
wood sprite still dancing as she
tiptoes on home.