Thursday, June 7, 2018

This Story You Used to Know (Day 505)


You might not recognize 
my hand   lines complicated 
as a newly-spun web 
containing the wide Pacific   
waves carved in laughing faces   
mouths whose insides hold 
my voice   but trust me   
the pen writing this story 
you used to know   like those 
spiders   orange as pumpkins 
whose triangle noses somehow 
always broke   rotting flesh 
softening   folding in upon itself   
you know who I am   companion 
on your lifelong walk beside 
the blue bay  round and firm 
as a plum straining against its 
own skin  roots sunk deep 
into the damp northern soil 


(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: Pumpkin spider, Araneus trifolium [harmless to humans]
 and its web with fog droplets, San Francisco. 
Brocken Inaglory/Wikimedia Commons