Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Walking in the Wet

The streets glisten
Rough-hewn iron
In the rain

No cars
No pets
Only cringing spiders
Webbed in sparkles
Under tree limbs

I watch them
And walk around them
Unwilling to feel the thread
Or their unwelcome legs
Unwilling to harm
Their world

My feet are only noise
Beneath me
My sweat no more a scent
Than newly fallen rain
And we are one
The night and me
Wet, glistening, new

We smile to each other
In parting
As dawn breaks.


  1. You’re starting to inspire me to try and write a poem... nice work keep them coming.

  2. I love those glistening spiderwebs. My Goth freaks out.

  3. Nothing like a communing with nature whilst moving through it with purpose. Inspiration abounds.

    Another good one.

  4. Oh, Jeff that would be awesome! Hopefully if some of my students start in, they'll see poetry isn't just cryptic writing meant to be "figured out"... I saw their glassy eyes in class yesterday, and it made me feel sad.

    The Mother: I can't say I blame the Goth, but I just don't feel that way. I hate messing with their webs, though--I feel like a bull in a china shop, knocking over everything. Besides, ghost hunters willingly investigate haunted houses, but are often afraid of spiders (and heights, and flying).

    Thanks, Eric!

  5. Have your students read generally Bukowski for a day and the next day have them read Confession by him. Inarguable with me the best example of a love poem ever written. They may get poetry then.