Lee Evans

Last night as we lay spinning out our dreams,
The dew condensed upon the spiders’ webs
Across our lawn. And in the morning light
Those tapestries appeared like napkins strewn
From an al fresco meal. Each sparkling web
Was woven as a funnel from the bowels
Of speechless creatures, patient and intent,
Displayed where careless moths or ladybugs
Might blunder off the straight and narrow paths
Of their survival—traps too weak and small,
However, for such wanderers as we.

I stooped to peer into a gleaming den,
But failed to spot the predator, then stood
And mused upon the human web in which
We disappeared last night as darkness fell,
Falling asleep in one another’s arms,
Reeling the world back into us on strands
Of unfulfilled desire. You woke with me,
To weave again the fabric of our dreams:
A tapestry in which all creatures stand
In dawn’s bright glow as Nature’s parables
Of what we have been, what we might become.