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The Star Wars Trilogy
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Cafe Del Soul
By Louie Crew -- Contributing Poet -- [Email This Item]
Walking alone to beat the heat
of the humid night, I chanced
into a spider's web, set at
eye level between two low trees.
Making the sound of a thousand harp strings,
off key and turned down low,
the maze broke in a crazed pattern
across my forehead, down my hair,
in curious, myriad channels from
nose to ear, and back to eye
and down to lips.
With an instant arc, my finger tips
clawed the threads--more from discomfort
than from dread--until I felt
they touched the monster
(for he seemed at least the size
of shrunken head or bloated thumb).
Then they couldn't find him again,
and I had to walk the mile back home
without a comb to assure that my
constant scratching was in vain.
Clearly my confusion there
obscured my seeing that
it is rare to be caught
in someone else's trap at the time
it has so little power to do me harm.
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