Wildy the Journeyman (into_the_wild) wrote,
Wildy the Journeyman
into_the_wild



:: The Cobweb ::
-- Raymond Carver --


A few minutes ago, I stepped onto the deck
of the house. From there I could see and hear the water,
and everything that's happened to me all these years.
It was hot and still. The tide was out.
No birds sang. As I leaned against the railing
a cobweb touched my forehead.
It caught in my hair. No one can blame me that I turned
and went inside. There was no wind. The sea
was dead calm. I hung the cobweb from the lampshade.
Where I watch it shudder now and then when my breath
touches it. A fine thread. Intricate.
Before long, before anyone realizes,
I'll be gone from here.

and

:: Design ::
-- Robert Frost --


I found a dimpled spider, fat and white,
On a white heal-all, holding up a moth
Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth --
Assorted characters of death and blight
Mixed ready to begin the morning right,
Like the ingredients of a witches' broth --
A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth,
And dead wings carried like a paper kite.

What had that flower to do with being white,
The wayside blue and innocent heal-all?
What brought the kindred spider to that height,
Then steered the white moth thither in the night?
What but design of darkness to appall?--
If design govern in a thing so small.


=

And if by design our fates are ruled
Precious moments, then, accrued
Are like strands of cobweb quivering.
Fragile into thin air
Nothing. Once
More
.





Inspired by Carver, Frost and this entry.

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  • 11 comments

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    I have been staying in my current apartment for about twenty months already. At the thirty-sixth level, it enjoys great…

  • A Complete Quantum of the Seas Experience

    Since the last Royal Caribbean Cruise trip ended abruptly with a COVID scare, I was determined to use the cruise credits for another trip before the…

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