Charlotte, Why
The chill of October--
Hanging from her web outside my window.
She does not move,
Although the air thrusts into her like boxer fists.
She stands steady,
The gray overcast slowly changing into shades of pink,
How strong is a spider's silk?
Could it hold the weight of the world's problems,
or would it snap--
for it is only strong enough for her own.
Sky transitions to gloomy purple,
Clouds moving faster as the tempo of the wind increases
Bats fly past silhouette trees--
Still she stays.
Why does she stay?
Nimble legs twirl in place like flipped tricycle wheels.
Is she scared?
If asked would she confide in me?
Now the blue of dusk shows,
Rustles of leaves on distant trees only show black; needles on trees no longer visible
If she wanted to could she move?
Or is she stuck to exist and take what is given?
Reflected in my windows glass,
She's fading from view.
Charlotte, why?
For whom do you bare the cold,
the pain,
the sorrow--
Is it for you,
or just some pig
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