the spiders of the morning
spin webs made of dew
all day the birds sway like leaves
on the tree by your window
the grass sings melodies in the wind
the flowers collect butterflies
the clouds nibble at the sun
in the evening the postman walks by your house
and forgets to leave the letters i never wrote
the spiders come out of their hiding
i dream of silk as the sheets
wrap around my sleep.
Tamara Moore on June 27, 2017:
I like this very much, and I sense there to be very deep meaning below the surface. Intriguing!