deepundergroundpoetry.com

Salticidae

With the winter comes
cold gusts and snow
I sit at home and ponder
(before the window draft)
where the jumping spiders go

Perhaps they ride upon
the great blue-herons back
or dream a dream akin to mine
(of green beneath the folds of white)
from their silky silver flats.
Written by Detritus
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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