White envelopes join forces
with old mahogany board
while a spider scuttles beneath
withering napkins and weaves
thin threads to capture the scent
of a solitary mint.
Down there the spider whispers
words, unintelligible
ramblings, which only he can
comprehend in this vast world
of oozing candles, rusty
tweezers, bright red dog collars. . .
He sits there patiently,
twiddling his wilted hands in
this inconspicuous and
mistreated garbage can.
He sits there and waits for the
chance to do something worthwhile
as the mist appears to hide
this unwanted cylinder.
YOU ARE READING
My Poetics
PoesieA few of the ramblings that have bled out from my mind onto my pen onto this app onto your mind. ♥
