Over at Lily Childs’ Feardom, she is hosting Spider Week and I barely penned my in! You can check out her story, Too Many Knees, or Chris Allinotte’s freaky-real tale, Sisters.
Enjoy.
Photo credit: Karen Milstein
Orb Weavers
—dusk in Portland awakens
the dwellers of deep
dusty burrows empty,
soft bellies slink,
upon jointed stilts,
an octagon of eyes
—a deadly dance ceases,
puncture a venomous kiss
sacrifice feeds,
delicate pods strung
swollen silken sacks,
proliferate rapacious litters
—a moon backdrop
throws silver on fine nets
cocooned feasts dangle,
between the hawthorns
shadows breed movement,
recede from sulfurous skies
—webs sag, vacant, dejected
crystalline beads chain
skittering hoards tunnel,
no wall is without entry
my bedroom a motel,
shake the can of Insect-X
Erin – this is absolutely exquisite. The words weave like lace and I am enraptured yet terrified. If I were an artist, I would design a necklace of your poetry to wear around my neck.
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I'm with Lily – I didn't know whether to be in awe or scared. Creepy yet at the same time mesmerizing.
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You spin some real tasty gems there, Erin…"…soft bellies slink, upon jointed stilts…"Eerie and mesmerizing.
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What is it with spiders this week? *shudder*Exquisite poetry, Erin!
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Exquisite. Exactly what it is. soft bellies slink, upon jointed stilts, an octagon of eyesThis is the stuff my nightmares are made of.
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Atmosphere to spare on this one Erin. It was hypnotic, and creepy at once.Great write.
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